This is another poem, inspired by a picture, written for Magpie Tales.
Haunted by a slant of light across the lintel,
I am left hanging now, half-heard in the stillness.
Once you were my cradle, my nightly lullaby;
but now, stealthily as a piano, you
have become far-distant, faint, barely audible.
I had tried to ignore your dark blue undertones,
played pianissimo, which drew out my tears.
I turned every trick in my last-ditch attempts.
I soft-pedalled, I turned somersaults, I tapped
and I kicked, I changed every tune but your own.
Your notes, once sacred to me, are now muted, laced
with a whispered nuance, so I look down and
await the final, inevitable
and most deadly silence.