those days

when they leave

those days

dressing becomes an option

wandering around housecoat open

stretched leather belt not holding

bare feet finding things

musing between rooms

not bothered to turn the tv on

the music too loud on adverts

the radio playing old forgotten songs

peering at the shower head

now or later?

frying eggs over easy

not crinkling the edges too much

& then not wanting to eat them

in two day old heart good bread

dust in corners beckoning

thought I’d thrown that out

creating piles as a to do list

knock at the door the mailman

yes yes no no two doors along

sitting in the armchair thinking

what just went down?

something is missing here

while the clock moves towards two

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