WRITE CHOICES AND ASPIRATIONS

A selection of work written over the last couple of years.

EMPTY SLIPPERS

 

EMPTY SLIPPERS.

 

I know one day I will have to move them

but for now they can sit where they are,

on your side of the bed.

I'm not ready to move on, to talk about you

in the past tense,

to smooth out your indentation in the mattress,

like some ruffled memory best forgotten.

 

They can sit on the rug, as if your feet were

about to slip into them again and dance across the floor

making me laugh the way you always did.

Yes, they are not in the way.

Not now it's only me, sitting here,

in the window, where you told me I would catch cold,

until you slipped your arms around me.

 

If I close my eyes, you can slip them round now,

I know you're here somewhere, in a parallel world,

waiting and watching, probably making the angels smile,

while everyone tip toes round me, whispering about grief

and time, what do they know?

Know about us, you and me?

It was special, wasn't it?

 

So special, I know you're here,

as the shadows flicker across the wall,

stretching like spiders and eagles wings,

crawling higher and higher, tip toeing across

the ceiling where we counted clouds and sheep

and anything else in our conspiring minds,

making reasons to stay awake and hold hands.

 

Sleep beckons me now,

as I roll into bed, not touching your half,

for fear of cancelling your shape,

they don't know it of course,

but they don't know lots,

all they see is the tears washing off my face,

and the empty slippers.