Emptiness

It is hard to explain
Until you find yourself driving home to an empty house,
No kiss to greet you on arrival, to sit you down with tea.
No one to chat to while cooking dinner,
To bounce ideas off for the weekly shop.
No one to take too long in the bathroom
Or go to sleep with the TV still on.
Everything waits for you as you left it
Still and ordered.
The pile of dishes you cannot face
Lingers because there is no one to dry them as you go
And you just don’t have the will
Or want to do it alone.

Until you close the front door on a sunny afternoon
To sit and stare at curtained space

Emptiness is hard to explain.