Leaving Home. Poem by Michael Walker

This morning I was out at the letter box
when I heard loud voices across the fence.
A young man had gone down the steps
in a hurry, carrying a suitcase.

An older woman was at the top of the steps,
sending insults down to her young boarder.
The man took it on the chin, I thought,
packing his bags in his loyal, silver car.

He exercised his right of reply to her
in a calm voice of controlled anger,
knowing it was eviction without notice
when he had another day at the office.

He said something that still haunts me:
'You are just greedy, taking all my money! '

- 9 June,2016.