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A Pointless Thursday

Author: Alison Coyle

I don’t want much.

Just one more pointless Thursday.

Mum busying about the kitchen while

The children chatter, play, and enjoy being

Together; just cousins doing nothing.

I want to sit side by side on the sofa,

Cooried in the crook of your arm,

Anchored to your chest, my head heavy

Rising and falling, bobbing with each breath.

All is well, I am harboured. I am home.

I want to doze in your warmth,

Pointless playing in the background.

Half-listening, opening an occasional eye

Shouting out pointless answers at the screen.

Dozing again. Daddy’s girl. I am home.

I want Mum to call us for Fajitas.

Too many bodies round a too small table,

All elbows and knees. Eating with fingers.

Tongues catching sauce before it runs down arms.

Laughing. ‘You’ll Never Guess How Many Chicken Breasts!’

‘Six’, ‘Ten!’, ‘One Hundred and Thirty-two!!’

The children will talk louder and we will

Love it because it’s a Pointless Thursday

And we are all together again.

We are home.

I don’t want much.

Just one more pointless Thursday,

Just the impossible.

You are gone. We are

Homeless.