untitled – c

this is a story
about companionship

in the mornings
when I rise
I pace the floor

noting shadows
and silences
that watch my movements
neither guardians
nor sentinels

their significance eludes me

on the patio
I can lean against a fence
that forms a boundary
between myself
and the garden bed
unkempt
through my neglectful ways

rebuked for my own insularity
for a passing moment
I feel ashamed

have you noticed the spiders
their webbing clings
to places I rarely think to gaze
but this morning
there is a lattice work
where I placed none

against the rising
light it is beautiful

I touch the walls of my surroundings
I run hot water
across my hands

my doona adapts itself
to me

I have three paintings
that I bought once
hung on my wall
and two chinese warrior men
waiting very patiently

my companions

when I touch their terracotta skins
a dust adheres to my finger

they willingly share themselves

I am all they know
it seems

that is enough
somehow
for them

but doesn’t answer questions
about things
I need to know
and
speaking into silence and shadow
cannot reflect an answer
or an echo
to fill my spaces
in your absence

~