The kids have left home

you're both alone

the phone is horribly silent.


Garden centres with their cosy diversions

still seem a lifetime away. 


You stare at the garden

it seems somehow sad

with its reminders of seasons passing. 


Selfies stuck in too recent time

stare back, your stomach turns


Mum is concerned

recently busier to pass some futile time

snappier as you sullently resist


the scourging knife that enters

your hollow breast with a savage twist. 




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