Flash points are omnipresent
in our shared lives. You trail crumbs
of disruption through our rooms. I fail
to meet your impotent, angry surmises
about Sun readers.
You other those many
who you deem ignorant, subservient
enablers of our Tory rulers. You fail
to listen when I urge for dialogue
to cross chasms.
You remain stuck in elite
echo chambers and Twitter-fed silos.
Why do you pontificate, as if to call
out injustice is your sole prerogative.
I re-arrange the mugs in our cupboard
that you ordered, to your liking.
When will you replace toothpaste lids
or switch off lights in empty spaces.
Where does kindness hide
inside our shared,
lonely lives.
I remember a time
when your smile softened
every part of me.
I must leave.
And yet today,
you volunteered
to clean my smelly,
muddied walking boots.
This moved me to stay
awhile, to search for
maps, the compass
we’ve misplaced.
Ceinwen lives in Newcastle upon Tyne, UK, and writes short stories and poetry. She has been widely published in web magazines and in print anthologies. She is a Pushcart (2019 & 2020) and Forward Prize (2019) nominee. She believes everyone’s voice counts.