Howling At The Moon

Tonight the huge half moon looks as if it has slipped down the sky and will fall into the city any minute. It's so close to the rooftops  -  a  crescent of luminous pale gold  - reflecting the street lights..... I take several photos but they are smudged blurs - my camera is dying.

If I could take a sensory snapshot of what its like in my world tonight it would be this....

I hear :

 a dog bark

next door

my square-faced clock ticking

my husband's sharp loud cough

downstairs

and his nose blowing.

I smell :

the acrid smoke from the salmon fillets

I grilled for supper

on top of the sweet vinegary aroma of the apple and walnut chutney 

I cooked for hours this afternoon.

I see :

the reflection of my old green angle-poise lamp

in the corner of the laptop screen

my father's smile

in the framed photo on my desk

smiling at me 

that afternoon in the bluebell wood

searching for memories of my mother.

I feel :

heavy - 

the waistband of my jeans tight round my tummy

cold -

my toes blue numb in flip-flops

and 

heart-heavy

with want - 

wanting it to be better 

than it really is.

I taste :

the sourness of despair

stinging my tongue

eating away

my resolve

to be brave and good

and kind.

I want to howl at the moon

but it has fallen silently

 out of the sky.