Then they were gone

Wounded from my own expectation I saw him, then he was gone At my home, I saw her- my sister Burning with ambition, an intellect without limit birds sang at her every murmur, As she let her radiance flow through her every encounter. Till all things were silenced, and joy turned cold then she was gone. I had a brother, who darted across the playground he used to say 'hide' and counted: one, two, three, seconds filled with no promise 'I'm coming'. At that, he was gone. My friend- little Billy, chanted my name through the church yard we used to laugh, dance and play soldiers on guard. Until one Saturday morning- A firm knock on his door interrupted my lunch- From across the street my meal turned sour as Billy turned cherry. Then he was gone. Later, I picked up my glasses and stumbled up, from the comfort of my rocking chair opening the curtains- peering through the tinted glass and waited. Remembering. The eyes that took them. knock, knock, knock echoed my door. I did not answer it. Until they were gone.