A ROOM IS STILL A ROOM
Dark wooden chair and wooden table
An empty bottle and empty glass
Incense, books and broken phone
Peeking through open window
To see yellow walls
wooden and warm, wrapt in dying sunlight;
To see dancing smoke
Curling on the air, folding on itself,
Twirling on and on…
To nought, to nil, to…
Night striding in.
Striding with the night
Arm in arm with the air – grey and blue and white –
Gliding over wooden chairs and wooden table
Sitting in the empty room, heavy and calm.
Two steps to step to black table
through shadowed light,
To step to wooden chair
To sit with a heavy sigh
Cold crystals on the wind
Still night, still wind
Still rain on shaking roof
Dim glow, yellow and blue
Candle standing in ceramic shoe
Ceramic shoe that she made.
Shadows in corners still lurking.
Room gently spinning
Dancing with the buzzing in his head.
They danced until the music stopped
– sca dap dap – stopped.
They laughed until the taxi
Dropped them off at the house.
They loved until daytime came;
Came in cool and happy and stained
their skin with its golden rays.
Stealing stealthily in,
Steps over dark, wooden chair
And wooden table
An empty bottle and broken glass,
Lifting the blanket night,
Parting its curtain – yellow and blue and white.
To welcome day and ease in light.
Brisk breeze, cauterizing pain
Pulsing hearts to one vein
Meet in love again.