(pains And Regrets) The Living Room Remembers Poem by Janice Windle

The dining chairs are sighing,
wishing they felt your energetic weight
swinging on to them.
The couch insists it’s a boat
and demands to be launched
to sail off to an island inhabited by only us.

The television’s black face is dumb
and the CD player’s been gagged
because they spoke of your absence.
The table groans,
but not with your loving offerings
of tea and dinners.

The water in the pipes trickles
and whispers,
“Satisfied? Wish away, fool! ”
And the books on the shelves
clamour, “We miss him, our master,
you have driven him away”
and I am silent
in this you-less room.