Each morning I’d get up and make the fire –
a pocket-money job , and yet
one I enjoyed. The house was still and cold.
A thin, insipid light seeped through the blinds.
I riddled last night’s embers , watched the ash
float down in feathers to the tray bel...
He had not expected to be here watching her again. She hadn’t called him in years, but here he was sitting in a white-lace dressed chair, with a single rose slotted down the back. He watched Lily dancing with her father, just this once and only because it was her weddi...