When you are away

When you are away
I catch myself holding
my breath,
eating unsandwiched
chunks of cheese,
and gathering
imaginary crumbs
from the counter
where you should
stand and eat

peanut butter jelly.

When you are away
the bed holds
crochet hooks and yarn,
shards of uninteresting
sales mail I never
open when you
are here,
and your cat
lies asleep awake
listening for the
snores he can’t hear.

When you are away,
the radio plays sad
jazz in a hollow room,
and my socks lie limp
on the floor where
I cannot find them
and the day is gray,
and my heart shallows
a necessary beat
reserving the swell
for your return.


About Robin Arnold

Reader, writer, gardener, geek, maker of homes in several states, now settled in Virginia with husband Bob, and Hazel and Wilson the tabby cats.
This entry was posted in Waxing Poetic. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to When you are away

  1. nAncY says:

    oh…i can relate to the stuff that gathers on the bed.good poem.

  2. Maureen says:

    Nice poem, Robin.It's kind of fun to let them in on what we do when they're not around, though the missing is what we often do best. Do you think they know?

  3. Robin Arnold says:

    Thank you Nancy and Maureen.

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