"The Measure of a Glass"

The Glass on the Table

A Glass Sits still, Halfway filled, Or is it half gone? He stares, silent, uncertain.

Bills, Job— Both lost. Emptiness Echoes in his chest, Like the hollow rim of the cup.

Wind Moans, Windows Rattle loud, Life moves on outside. Yet he stays frozen in the past.

Then— Laughs. Soft hands Lift the glass, Tiny fingers grip. "Daddy, look! There’s water left!"

Eyes Wide, She grins, Full of light, Brighter than the glass, Spilling hope where sorrow sat.

Tears Fall, Not sad— Not empty— But filling anew, A man reborn in a child's truth.

Poem & Artwork by @yablonsky