Fenola's Loss. Poem by Terry Collett

You drive home
from work
to an empty flat.

You find it hard
to get used
to Eileen's death
after she lost
her long battle
with deep depression
and took her life
two years ago.

The traffic is busy
cars line up
behind each other
buses pass by
like giant green dinosaurs
in pursuit of prey.

You hope to meet
the girl you met
at the coffee bar
a date is fixed.

You are nervous
not wanting to put
a foot wrong
or give false signals.

You hate lying
in bed alone
no one to kiss
or hug close
or make love to.

Just an empty space
where Eileen used to be
and you lie in bed
at night as if
on a frail raft
on a wild sea.