The fresh paint belying
The cracks she knew
Were papered over
For her pleasure
The gentle kiss
Glossing over tired features.
I’m home she said, slipping the bag from her shoulders,
I’m home, said the bag on the dust
Accumulated, the stories of absence
Bringing their own hallowed mistrust.
Heading for the kettle, she wondered
At its lonely stance
As if her home coming
Had given it another chance
The pipes, she wondered
Had they frozen while she was away?
Or would they be there for her
Just as they were before, her mainstay.
Maybe they had moved on
Taken by others who knew their worth
The Taking less troubled
Than the search
What was, still is, She hoped
Breathing in the motes
The light slanting, sliding,
Eliding known corners.
Had it aged, faded gently,
As she hobnobbed in sunny climes
Like her unruly hedgerows
The corner shop had changed hands
The awning told her that
The plums now in cellophaned boxes
The apples stickered just so
The sausages spoke of orders
The bananas, still glowed yellow
Her mind boggled disoriented, slow
Her memory redundant
Clinging to the edges of mellow
As the thinner plastic of her shopping bag
Grazed against the unseasonal Holly
Telling her something,
Something she should know
Her home, it was, familiar,
Her eyes all the same ,
Casting around as they did before
Wondering where to pin the blame
Errands slipping into routine
That this was it, she was back
Practiced ease of tired hands reproof
Then why – this refraction as attack..
It’ll take a while, you’ll settle down
She heard the voice of her dearest friend
Who was long gone.
The neighbours new, the outsider she
The old pub down the road,
With its new sign swinging,
She took the train
The bus to school
To gardens of picnics past
Where Teddy Bears flew
The fragments familiar
The picture askew
And then she realised
She, She was the glue.
To hold it together, to built it anew
Patterns that work, not patterns that grew
Singing in rhythm, abandoning the rhyme
Doing it her way this time.
Her heart singing notes to the tracks in her head
Her trinity aligned, the triad tandemised,
Nestling in her self made bed
Creaking to her tune.