Will I Be A Mad Old Woman? Poem by Mandy Baldwin

Now that you are gone, and there’s no-one to tell me I look pretty
No desire to please, to drive me to revamp my hair or buy new clothes
Will I be a mad old woman grown fat on tea and biscuits
(Shared with my small dog - a crumb for the budgie - and milk in
The saucer for my cat,)
Going to the shops in slippers, leggings sagging, feet blue-mottled
Given to outrageous makeup and the wearing of eccentric hats?

Now that you are gone, and there’s nothing left to talk about with someone
I told everything,
no-one to argue with about how long
I took in the shower,
or how it was at work, or how I feel about the news I heard
or whether I should take a chance
Will I accost strange people at the bus stop, ask them all their business then never see them again?
Or develop a relationship with my pot plants?

Now that you are gone, and my bed is empty and cold,
and no-one disturbs my sleep any more, or turns over and steals the quilt,
or pulls the pillows from under my head
Will I ever get used to not having another’s skin against my skin, so warm and soft
And will I learn to sleep in the middle again, not perched on the edge of the mattress, as I still do, now?
Will I find that it is easy, living alone,
and, solitary as a beetle in a crack in the floor, rest easy because you cannot wake me from where you are?
Or will I find another man to love, somehow?