(For National Poetry Month I write a daily stream-of-conscious poem. Spontaneous single edit – it will be ugly! Poem #19.)

ex nihilo
I awaken from dreaming
of your lips warm on mine
only to find the heat is off
in this empty house

Easter weekend
Good Friday hatches
half thoughts of eggs
coloured or not
ripe with possibility
still warm from the pot

I’d have to move
from this bed where
I am currently cocooned
ignoring the pushy cats
scratching my bedroom door
demanding I arise

pitter patter
April rain on roof
pitter patter
cat paws in pursuit
pitter patter
words in my head

bitter herbs for seder
fresh plucked and dipped
unleavened bread broken
blessed and consumed
this is my body
this is my blood
this is my betrayal

I didn’t ask for this
and yet here it is bestowed
as everything and nothing
alpha to omega
wrapped in brown paper
with a tattered Christmas bow

pit-a-pat
rain keeps falling
pit-a-pat
felines still calling
pit-a-pat
I’m still stalling

mother used to make fish
every goddamn Friday
filling my nostrils
with the scent of death
and catholicism for supper

father would close shave
every blessed Saturday
filling the whole house
with the reek of Aqua Velva
in ritual ablution for Sunday

I never could decide which
aroma I detested more
and now how very much
I miss them both

pitter-patter
pit-a-pat
tick-tock
time moves on
leaving us alone
hoping to atone
for what we did
and what we didn’t

time at last for me to confess
I think today it may be best
if I slip deeply back to rest
for I have failed the living test.