Grandma dead
Beyond all things
We see and touch,
With Grandpa, maybe,
Somewhere else.
Clothes hang vacant,
Cool, on the rail.
Downstairs, pots and
Pans know no
Nasi Goreng now,
Nor Kedgeree.
No eggs for breakfast
Fresh from Sally.
In the garden,
Deck chairs gape,
Quiet is the gravel
Now. Rosemary and bayleaf
Need no watering, yet,
Unwatered, still.
In the street roses
Bloom round the
Door, windows look
Through open curtains
And the cottage waits
For other lives and
Hopes for kindness,
As before.
[29th August 2009]