A stain fading from the ceiling as I watch,
A shadow cast by a patch of sunlight,
Two pictures canted at the same angle,
Tell of a life, calm, but out of kilter.
The sound of a dripping tap, suddenly stilled,
Of hollow footsteps on a concrete floor,
Or paper rustling in a silent room,
Tell of a life, good at keeping secrets
The scent of lavender by the kitchen door
Or roses in an empty vase
And chocolate and raspberries by the fireplace
Do not tell me of pain and desperation.
Edward Alport is a proud Essex Boy and occupies his time as a teacher, gardener and writer for children. He has had poetry published in a variety of webzines and magazines. When he has nothing better to do he posts snarky micropoems on Twitter as @cross_mouse.
Foxglove Journal 