My first poem, written after a classmate was killed in a hunting accident. By the time I was in college, I'd filled 2 journals with illustrated poetry and calligraphy- all lost to a flood from hurricane Floyd in 1999.


Your Chair Forever Bare



A pop rang through the air.
Come Monday morning,
You were not in your chair.

You sat near me in chemistry;
But on Monday morning
Your seat was empty.

Friends went on a hunting trip,
Bullets were still in the clip.
A tragic accident did occur,
Ending one's season forever.

A pop rang through the air.
Come Monday morning
You were not in your chair;
Your chair, forever bare.


By Clara Mae Gregory

Originally published on 03/17/2005

Author's Note: This poem was based on a true event that happened in my life when I was in 10th grade(1970).I had a mild crush on the student that was killed(Dwight Smith) by his best friend(Wesley Pike) in a tragic hunting accident.The memory of it has stayed with me through all these years. Somethings forever remain vivid in the brain and this is one of those things.





Poetry by Clara Mae Gregory The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2026-06-24 at 15:17

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