nelipot

snuff out the candles,
silence the dog.
fasten the doors,
savour the dreg of wine.

gently lift the tonearm
-the silent void returns
in the still moonlight
the radiator heart beats.

cool bare soles upon
coarse wooden boards
padding meekly up the stairs.
how silent, how still

life seems without him.
how large a space,
how stern a house,
coveting master's return.

tender gentle ablusions,
clothes are folded and smoothed.
a tiny frame slips under blankets
barely creasing the sheets.

for one hour before sleep
she thinks of this silent world,
where he is and why he's gone
how she knows he won't return

her calm, still breathing crackles
and her forehead starts to warm
cheeks now flushed and angry
tears spilling in a bid of calm.

choking through her sadness
breaking the death within the room,
a log falls to her heart's embers
and her soul begins to burn.