Vague memories cling to the fabric,
permanent indentations show in the cushions
of the now empty chairs you once sat in.
As time marches forward,
I hold tight to the moments created while sitting in those chairs.
Your laughter is embedded in the cloth.
The fiber of your being is worn into the stitching.
The very essence of you lingers in the shadows,
hiding in the nooks and crannies of those chairs.
You left behind a part of you in something so simple,
and now those empty chairs no longer hold sorrow,
but are cushioned with memories
and framed with love.