Table in the Corner

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There has always been an old table in the corner 

Light from a nearby window pours onto it 

spilling over its square edges. 

The light illuminates stacks of envelopes with bright red ink reading “Final Notice.” 

It shines through brown beer bottles sitting next to overflowing ashtrays. 

I watch the light fade away. 

Sitting alone in the dark I feel at ease.  

With nothing to see.