The silence that has fallen
carpet-less your busy room,
the presences of absent furniture,
empty bookshelves, departed garden tools,
flowering pots, patches of empty wall
where pictures hung.
So strange is time-
this ancient photograph hidden behind a list
of phone numbers - what message that ?
How long ago - the way you look at me
and I so vigorous - was that my prime?
The place is gently haunted now
Alone before the ten o’clock news
two cats gaze beyond the horizon
distant donkeys bray.
I do believe it’s much more difficult
staying behind -
the ghosts in your place
they will not trouble you.
Here they come through doors
or creak along corridors
or run a bath.
The place vibrates in it’s past immediate,
the gaps in decoration
becoming doors to sudden pictures
drown the heart.
The farm is restless now,
relents in silence.