Embers
~~~~
It's late at night, the television off.
The fire burns low and the room grows cool
On the mantelpiece an old clock
ticking loudly can be heard
above the soft crackling
of the dying fire.
The embers fall
and ash spills
on the
hearth.
One
the clock
strikes it's chime.
The old woman
sits in the armchair
drinking from a lukewarm
cup of tea made earlier
unwilling to disturb the cat
curled like a furry ball on her knee.
She will go to bed soon, but not just yet.
~~~~
11th. September 2014
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