I’ve been staring at the urn,
again.
Fidgeting, fingers twiddling.
Pacing up and down, nails biting.
In a daze, room spinning.
If you were here, you’d ask if I’d had eaten yet.
But how could I? I’ve been too busy.
Pacing up,
and down.
Should I? I shouldn’t.
Maybe I should.
I’d pour you out onto the counter,
and put you together piece by piece.
I’d start with the end pieces, fish out the false edges and the corner pieces.
Like an impossible jigsaw puzzle.
I’ve had practice and I think I’m ready.
I could finish in three years.
Ironic, isn’t it?
That’s how long it took to almost forget you.
But,
I shouldn’t, should I?
I shouldn’t.
Crazy that’s why you asked to be cremated
Because you knew, and I knew, that I wasn’t going to let go.
But I’ve had practice, you see?
I could finish in three years.
Another three, and maybe I’ll draw open the curtains,
Maybe I’ll finally go outside.
I bet not much has changed past these walls,
probably still green lawns with brown patches,
an overgrown lemon tree with a cat stuck high up that can’t climb down.
a dog chasing his human kid learning to ride a bike, falling over but still trying.
rain sliding down the rain gutters hitting the pavement,
maybe a lucky rainbow
a butterfly here and there, hovering over a bouquet of flowers, spoilt for choice.
I see what you’re doing.
That was a neat trick, getting me to daydream.
A life without you where everything else has moved on so easily.
…
But you’ll be here, and I’ll be out there,
the sun still shining, the birds still chirping.
Maybe a rainbow if I’m lucky.
But you’ll be…here.
I couldn’t…
I should.
I should, shouldn’t I?
Frammie's 