Entry #4: Empty Spaces, by Brian Bowles
EMPTY SPACES

They were kids nine, ten, and eleven years of age.
All anxiously growing into their next stage.
They loved to dance, play, and run.
All were bubbly, loving, kind, sweet, and fun.

They were happy, silly, ambitious, focused, and smart.
All liked to draw, paint, and shape clay into art.
They had favorite colors, numbers, and flowers.
All could play video games and talk for hours.

They awaited summer to play outside in shorts.
Most of them love PE and sports.
They enjoyed kickball, basketball, football, and baseball.
All were just starting to sprout and grow tall.

Today was awards and honors with many an ovation.
Tomorrow the last day before summer vacation.
Then classmates and cousins could fish and swim.
Not one knowing this day would turn grim.

One’s name spelled backwards was “heaven.”
She was ten and never reached age eleven.
Grief and trauma suddenly took all their places.
Bright hearts gone along with their beautiful faces.

We are left with lingering fears.
We are left with never ending tears.
We are left without their loving embraces.
We are left with too many more empty spaces.

—Brian Bowles © 2022