[Image from Pinterest]
[Inspired by Sonny Rollins’ “God Bless the Child”:]
Today was hers.
Coffee for one, napkin unfolded
and laid upon lap, waiting for breakfast
from which no mouthful would be snatched,
stolen by lips of a lover from night.
These mornings – always
weekends – were for her alone. So right
that her mouth be filled with sugar real,
a guilty pleasure without
the danger of that other one.
A date with herself, very
21st Century, woman in control,
and all that. Visits to galleries, museums,
and stores filled with books
no-one wanted anymore. Just browsing,
hidden in the dark and the dust of –
not tombs, but –
a pause between homes.
Adopt them she always did, was a problem
her decor shouted from every corner.
He’d commented, once, before
she’d silenced him, sealed his lips with a kiss.
But now? Theirs was a bliss which seemed
destined for a ring, for billowy white,
and a garden wrapped in tulle. Sort of right,
but would she have to change, give up
who she was; what she’d come to carve out in life?
Was she really ready, she thought cradling
the coffee, now cold, to step out
of this skin and become
just someone’s wife?
[Copyright © N R Nolan 2016]