Don’t Leave Unattended18 April 2016
On the 866th day you said you smelt a bushfire
Slamming the front door
(You were never that tough).
And the sound of a lost last chance
rang in my ears.
Louder than sirens.
Louder than bombs.
Louder than The Smiths record I had playing while I cooked us breakfast.
And I watched you walk, calm, down all 36 steps
and drive off, slowing only once
for a cat that refused to get off the road.
and I kept watching
But the eggs were burning on the stove,
and the toast had popped long ago,
and the smoke alarm started to scream,
like it knew my pain.
your path through the door
leaving it open
just in case.
And I walked calm
down 36 steps.
I walked calm
to that damn cat on the road.
I picked her up
And carried her home wishing I’d refused to let him through
refused to get off the road
up the steps.
I closed the door behind me.
And I shared my burnt breakfast with my new companion.
Who couldn’t open doors.
Who couldn’t up and leave.
But the eggs were all black and bitter