She’s waiting in the parlour
A museum of plastic-wrapped settees
Absently dusts the mantelpiece
Wondering where they could be

The whisky passes her lips
Is it too early to drink?
No, surely not, and dismisses the concern
Knowing full well this futile dance with speculation is played out each and every day

There’s movement past the front window
It might be them
But there’s a child’s laugh- just the neighbour’s boy
He reminds her of a brother long ago

It’s so dark in this room
Really should buy that new lamp
Saw it in a catalogue
Maybe get it tomorrow

Turn on the television
Sick of this waiting
But there’s nothing on
It’s all the same

It used to be different
Voices filled this room
There was movement and light and laughter
There’s no joy found in the memory

She takes a deep breath
Pours another glass
And watches the dust dance along the light beams
They’re not coming today

Ezy Reading can be contacted at feedback@thecud.com.au, just include ‘ATTENTION: EZY READING’ in the subject line of your email.