The Left-Behind Loon

A Villanelle

By Gabriel HuizengaPublished 9 months ago • 1 min read

Please pardon the discrepancy between this edited photo and the title. :)

To whom does the lone, left-behind loon call?

His companions made for sun past the lake -

Upon empty shores does his wraith song fall.

Slow are my steps under morning-mist's pall,

Wondering, looking to where the trees break,

To whom does the lone, left-behind loon call?

Colors have departed from sky, trees, all,

as I trail, watch, listen, in Autumn's wake;

Upon empty shores does his wraith song fall.

I think of grandfather, once standing tall -

Did e'er he ponder, with similar ache,

To whom does the lone, left-behind loon call?

How hollow this numbing, echoing sprawl;

Of what would grandfather, this sad scene make?

Upon empty shores does his wraith song fall.

A fading cry, a forgotten son's squall

Does here, the place of all mysteries, take:

To whom does the lone, left-behind loon call?

Upon empty shores does his wraith song fall.

Twas for love of words that I first joined this site:

Poetry, especially, and dear short stories too;

For to live one's best is to read, and to write!

So find me in words here, and I'll find you 💙

Thanks for stopping by! :)

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