Seat 50-D

There was an empty seat right next to mine
   On the plane home, and all throughout the flight
I wondered: was it random?  Or a sign?
   And if a sign, of something wrong or right?
Was it there to tell me I am alone
   And always will be, wherever I go?
A waiting nest?  Or some bird that had flown?
   Just what I need?  Or what I’ll never know?
I think it was a test of character--
   This world’s the echo of an inner voice
That whispers what we secretly prefer:
   To hope or blame, to sulk or else rejoice.
      For what we choose, we will see everywhere:
      The empty hollow, or the waiting chair.

Copyright 2011 Matthew J Wells