While Others Sleep

 

The pain lies close to my heart

Like a living thing, safe from prying eyes,

Just below the surface of my daily life.

 

Like a living thing, it needs air.

I take it out in the dark of the night,

Let it breathe, while others sleep.

 

I play with some crumbs of comfort,

Roll them round my tongue,

Hoping they will anaesthetise pain,

Diminish it. They taste flat, unconvincing:

 

You will never grow old.

You will never know fear, despair, disease.

You will not live in the shadow of the Bomb.

 

But the pain is not diminished;

Like a living limb it will grow old with me,

For your place is still empty,

The room sighs, heavy with year-old remembrances –

Your laughter, chatter, the way you ran up the path.

 

The faint first light of dawn streaks the curtains.

I push the pain away, hide it

Close to my heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

©1998 Barbara Godfrey & Black Cat Communications
All rights reserved