almost empty

Only the breeze closed the door
This evenings
spaces
the empty house
so alive with clicks
and creaks
and the freaks of sounds
that stab hope
that you returned
the nagging doubt of the missing,
gnaws on the edge of a conscious man
slipping
as the chair supports the slumping frame
just there ,in peripheral vision
I thought I caught a glimpse of her
But shadows are playful things
I’m sure they don’t mean it
Oddly a comfort scarce
In the corner of this room
Drawn blinds
I chose my shadow carefully
Missing you
The whole house is mine
Its purpose vacuum
Leaves me tongue tied
Talking to myself
For empty space I tend to
Re arrangements of photo frames, the exact angle
the way you did
I hold on so tightly
the imaginary conversations
presence, not enough a comfort
and although I feel the years will ease
I wish them viscous to feel
The guilt survivor sentence
Passed
The first year
And dust gathered, quickening
I fail to tend like you did
I leave dust to trace lines
my mark the only way
Of touching existence, real
I try to do what you wanted me to
That ‘time’ thing you told me
Funny
It steals, yet your epitaph heals only temporary
For once hollow holes soon fill
Larger the more you take, time
And irony as I approach you
My own increments inevitable
Mapped out
On my side of the tracks.
The carriage clock almost black now
Blades of grass oh so very wild
I’m sorry about the flower borders love
I recall the painted beds
your favourite colour was
The crisp of cotton white
brushed skin we loved on summer nights
Remember the rain in the garden? (smiles)
Naked smiles those gorgeous times
on tip toes
And I always thought that curious to end.
Still, silence falls on yet another
Evening, I found the hall
And paused
I think I slept for hours
Dreaming of the moment
The ivory tower falls
and
we re merge from mist.