The Dying Of The Light
There is no light that never goes out
It has faded to nothing from my chair
The phone sits in its cradle and does not ring
There is no-one at the door
I wait to get sleepy as the sunset fades to black
Read a newspaper article about a murderer
Lock the door. Make some cocoa
I go to bed and switch the light out
No-one is here. No-one will come
Any evening bottle of wine is consumed by myself. Alone
I shall not share this bed again
There are no forks in the road ahead of me
My options narrowed too long ago
And lost in the blur of eighteen years of childcare and work
I never noticed that slight, hopeless ache set in.
Take root.
My son is fast asleep in the next room
I heard his gentle breathing
Through years of slumbering cascades of Pokemon and Action Men
His days marked by steady advances in Lego and gaming technology
Swimming pools and sweets
School trips and bedtime stories
A little life’s pageant played out in all the wonder of the world
Sometimes I look ahead with dread for him
Wars. Jobs. The Planet.
But they are too big for him.
My worst fear is that one day
He too might have to wear this
Thin cold vest of loneliness
He too might gaze out and see
The bleakness of the road ahead
Where empty horizons disappear
As the light fades to who knows where.
