I Sit in an Empty Orphanage

We used to laugh all together
and Betsy would feedst us
porridge, oatmeal, and vegetable stews,
but then people came and took away our fun;
mostly the girls were first
to go away,
then the boys best at tag and ball,
last Bobby left, quiet and smart,
and only Betsy stayed and kept my company,
but less often (she had other places to be).
She once said if it weren’t for my eyes
I could of left too,
but that’s okay: I like it here –
the rooms are big and mysterious
with their silences and everything goes
as slow as the sunlight.
With all the old laughter gone unheard
just me at the supper table
over an empty bowl, smyling.