Lonley

Looking out of the front room window, sleet falls on glass, it’s white then turns to water, how I miss the soft pat of snow, There’s an old clock on the mantle piece, next to faded pictures, pictures of faded people that once were my friends, Brown sepia images recalling times so long ago, those times etched into a world that once was my time, now long gone, Holding on to the wing of an old armchair to balance I look at red flowered wallpaper, yellowed net curtains. Sleet turned to snow and the pat on the window was how it should be, outside snow fell, like apple blossom, Grass began to turn white, people rushed by umbrella’s held low protecting faces, it made me feel good, happy, Why happy? Could it be an excuse for my loneliness, nobody ever comes round I can pretend it’s the snowfall, So again I look out the window and pray for heavy snow, so my pretence can last for a few days, maybe longer. Sitting down staring at the wallpaper patterns merge into scenes, scenes like holding hands for the first time, Scenes of laughing friends, faces in bright sunlight framed with pie dish haircuts, always a joker in the group, Dipping feet in clear running water on warm days, watching for fish, hoping to see one bigger than a tiddler, It’s funny, who would have thought that an insignificant moment would last for so many years, a whole lifetime. There were times years ago when peace and quiet was a blessing, but now, days and days go by, no one to talk to, Younger people think the elderly are nostalgic, always living in the past, but it’s not the past they miss, it’s companionship, As the snow pats on my window, I’m throwing snowballs at friends, having imaginary conversations of when I had some value, And the scenes on my wallpaper are all I’ve got left, so once again I ride my bike with long gone friends playing in golden days.