LONELY LIFE

                        LONELY LIFE by Wanda L. Harrell

So many things constantly remind me I am alone…

There’s no one is here to remind to turn out the light,

and no friendly warfare over which TV program to watch at night.

One apple, one orange and single banana in the fruit bowl,

and the cabinet is full of large serving dishes used long ago.

There’s no one to lie beside me, listening to my heart beats,

and the passenger side of my car is laden with papers and receipts.

There’s one plate and a fork and a spoon in the kitchen sink,

and one coffee cup and one glass out of which I drink.

Daily, I hear the clock tick-tock, instead of conversations,

and I drive somewhere just to hear the GPS voice its navigations.

There’s only one toothbrush in the holder made for four,

and knowing I put it there if something is laying on the floor.

No one to discuss what to have for a snack or a meal,

and encircling my waist, there’s no arms that I can feel.

There’s no one with whom to share a fascinating thought,

and it’s instant decaf coffee instead of a freshly brewed pot.

A single towel hangs by itself on the rod in the bathroom,

and there’s no reason to wear sweet smelling perfume.

I’m always wishing that the wretched phone would ring,

and there’s the quiet, blasted quiet with no off key duets to sing.

There’s one side of the bed to make up when slumber is past,

and knowing whatever work lay ahead, it’s always a solitary task.

There’s no one to give me a good morning or goodnight kiss;

There are so many things that I desperately miss.

Yes, so many things constantly remind me I am alone;

It’s just me now, an empty house and a silent telephone.