Tag Archives: My grandfather

Empty (a poem by Gordon Calvert)

I keep phoning home,
When I know there is no one,
I let it ring three times, and
then hang up in despair
But they are all gone
And when I go home
the house will be
as it can only be
Empty.

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The Old Times (a poem by Gordon Calvert)

The magic of the place
is gone.
The meadows
The giant oaks
The old cabin
It was none of these
that held the spell
for me.

Nor was it the horses,
The cows or the house.
I would like to say
that it was the children
laughing and leaving free
but that would not be true.

It was the sense of
being
of belonging to
all these things.
Now the feeling
has been broken,
lost forever.
It is time to move on.

GF Calvert

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