Endless Day
Waking early, escaping hours of restless sleep
Shuffling down stairs in threadbare slippers
And faded dressing gown
To face another tedious day
She makes tea in the old brown pot
And sits at the empty kitchen table
Staring out through the cobwebbed window
Lambent rays of dawn
Flirt with the dark horizon
Struggling to get another daytime under way
Only slowly lighting the cloudy sky
Heavy with coming rain
The silence sits oppressive
And darkness gathers round
She ignores the gently dripping tap
As she drinks a second cup
And smokes a cigarette
Reflecting on the empty day ahead
The hours yet to be traversed
The quiet to be endured
Restlessly wandering from room to room
Sometimes standing, shiftless
Rearranging tasteless ornaments
Long since collected
Now unloved, undusted, unwanted
But something to do with her hands
To keep them from trembling
Sometimes sitting down again
Leafing through year-old magazines
Loathe to listen, minute after lingering minute
To the quiet ticking of the clock
Among the clutter on the mantel
Its hands seeming not to move
As the endless hours stretch away
For another long day with little purpose
The deserted hall, no-one to call
No letters in the mailbox
And a phone that never rings
Staring into empty space
Alone, with time to kill
