The Writers' Circle

I wasn't alone last night
when you called at my door,
The pouring rain making you drip
pathetically on the porch mat.

I wasn't alone this morning
When you phoned at such an early hour
Awakening hidden memories
that swirled and danced in the rising mist.

I wasn't alone later
when your emails knocked at my screen
a pulsing red number of urgency
that screamed and screamed.

I'm not alone now
as I sit down to dinner
with all the finery of a banquet
and the glitz of life laid out.

I'm not alone
but without you
I might as well be.