I walked in circles tonight–
From room to room,
For what I am not sure.
A sound, any sound–
Familiar sounds of home,
Of you, of our children,
The touches of humanity
That reside in our home
Are gone when you are gone.
The heater ruffles the calm
Silence of the night, disturbing
My solitude, leaving me looking
From my desk, my writing–
I walk from room to room
To occupy my thoughts.
Morning has come, coffee
In hand, perched at my desk
While laundry spins in the washer,
And scenes spin in my head–
My coffee tastes better, the silence
Is calming, my character is alive and well–
You’ll be home this afternoon, I smile,
My solitude is now refreshing
As I wait for you to call. Have I
Become one of those people?
Those people who hate being alone?
No, I hiss. I’m just lonely for you,
Missing you. I make my way to the kitchen,
Transferring clothes from the washer to the dryer,
The basket to the washer, add bleach–
Mundane chores help keep me sane.
Pour myself another cup of coffee; meanwhile,
The antagonist in my book is trying to find ways
To create chaos, so I use my feelings of sadness,
Loneliness, and the ache inside over your absence
And create what will eventually be the perfect scene–
My main character walks away from her cage, into
The light and later will find love,
After a much needed solitude.