It's Been Years Since She's Put on that Dress.

It's Been Years Since She's Put on That Dress. (Mother)

Your hands shake, as you break another glass,
wrinkled by the water, left running.
The kettle whistles on the stove.
The oven is breathing smoke.
The places were set long ago
but now the room is getting cold.
She overflows, as love abides.

And just below,
the stairwell sings, a familiar tune...
Mouse trap clicks.
Clock counts.
Boiler rumbles the house.
Heater speaks to the smoke alarms beeps:
“The room is now filling with clouds”

With every sound, an open eye.
For every pause, a deep breath.
As the daisies that dress bedroom walls lure her to sleep.

At half past eight,
slips the morning light.
Into her bathroom robe
then on towards the kitchen stove
Where right on time, the kettle hissed,
it was off to work with a hurried kiss.

Without a word,
he turned away and every pause left deeper pain.
What she wished he’d say, became her escape,
while each swinging door became sweet saving grace.
Grandfather’s clock, was like a ticking bomb
as it approached with great alarm.

Suddenly to her surprise, she awoke to a ringing bell.
At such an early hour and no expected guest,
she dressed in haste, fear on her face.
The silhouette stood tall in place,
through the window she looks and hesitates.
With both her hands she reached for the door,
removed the locks and opened up.

“Oh, my God. How long has it been?”
she stared straight into his repentant eyes,
and he smiled..
“I’m sorry for leaving this house to ruin.”
The morning came and lifted up
these two old souls back into love.