Empty Nest

The ice that's in the trays sits undisturbed.
No random power tool noise fills the air.
My collie's 'thusiam 's somewhat curbed;
Her fav'rite human (my dad) isn't there
When she comes back indoors from her patrol.
The kitchen table's empty and quite clean
(Apart, that is, from artichokes mom left --
By accident or charity? I mean,
They're artichokes, of which she's oft bereft
In Saratoga!); the spare room is, too.
Just when I'm used to sharing, I'm alone
Again. Another visit now is through,
My mom and dad are now safe back at home.
I have, of course, a great big load of stuff
To tackle in their absence, sure enough.