That empty space on the verandah

The iron bars enclose it on two sides
Just outside the red and white flowers
With the two small plants
Standing like sentinels
At time they branch out
With some green
Reaching on the steps leading up
Or going down
From that grill door that is encased in
More iron
Meshed.

A concrete slab
In mosaic, matching the floor
A small place to sit
Empty these days
Vacant at all times
Her favourite place
As sleep eluded her
As troubles caught up
At times

Her place to just sit and watch
The little things that went on
Or didn’t.

That wild, vacant space
With the creepers crawling
At times dense
That looked like home to ghostly haunts
In the darkness
As she tried to look away.

Absences.