I stand in the study,
your favorite room.
I stand by the window,
waiting for your return.
The war is over;
the soldiers are coming home.
When will you be home?
It’s been six years;
to me, an eternity.
I miss the good times we had,
I miss you.
I move the curtain to see
through the window,
and sigh as I see nothing but sky and grass.
The scent of roses fills the room
as a servant calls out to me,
reminding me that you have
died in battle five years ago,
and to come to dinner.
I look towards the doorway
then back to the window.
I don’t believe it, I won’t.
Because deep in my heart
lies the truth,
that you’re still alive.
I am the Penelope,
waiting for my Odysseus.
Every day,
I stand in the study,
your favorite room.
I stand by the window,
waiting for your return.
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