Sunday, 13 April 2008

Because You Are Not Here.



This morning, familiar sounds drift in as I lie in bed. The ticking clock, birdsong, grasses. A babe, no longer sickly, inches from my face, teeth beaming in fat, rosy cheeks. The childish voices in another part of the house,quiet murmurings.

But your voice does not join the weave. No humming in the kitchen, no radio drone, clink of a knife on a plate..

No footstep on the boards outside my door.

4 comments:

Annah said...

Hi Ciara, your posts can easily break my heart. This seems to touch on an ancient pain, or something in our collective consciousness, I can't explain it but I understand it. Much love, Annah

Ciara said...

Hi!
So glad to see you here. And thank you for your sweet words.
C x

jay said...

It's nice to be missed

Ciara said...

You have no idea... :-(