Senses Poem by Martin Greyford

The soprano screak of carriage wheels punished my ear.
Sun
Seeping through the blinds,
Filled the bedroom with a sulphurous light.
I didn't know how long I had slept,
But I felt one big twitch of exhaustion.

The twin bed next to mine was empty and unmade.

At seven I had heard my mother got up
Slip into her clothes and tiptoe out of the room.
Then the buzz of the orange squeeze mr sounded from downstairs
And the smell of coffee and bacon filtered under my door.
Then the sink water ran from the tap and
Dishes clinked as my mother dried them
And put them back in the cupboard

The front door opened and shut.
Then the car door opened and shut
And the motor went broom-broom and,
Edging off with a crunch of gravel,
Faded into the distance.