My daughter is at a friend's house for tea, and my husband is away on a course. So I've had more time on my own than usual. I was looking through some files and came across a poem I'd written some time ago when she was younger. Seems quite apt, as the house feels too empty today.
The quiet
Constant questions, whines and cries
Theories, commentries, dramas and lies
Off to pester some other woman
For the afternoon
Back at home, just dog and I
The quiet seeps into the house
Barely there,
Then grows and grows,
To deafen and unsettle me.
Reminds me of that game we played
Eyes shut tight
Lying prone
You held my arms aloft for such a time,
Till slowly, you let me down
And over the cliff-face of my mind.







