An Ordinary Day
An ordinary day—
no sign of the night’s storm.
The sun’s shining through the trees,
casting shadows on the mounded earth
where new flowers spread their roots.
They sway in the May breeze, cheerful.
Inside the breakfast dishes are washed,
the rooms tidied, all the clutter swept away,
the bags disposed of.
The postman will come at the usual time,
delivering the usual collection of bills
In the evening, the man of the house
will fix himrself a cocktail
and sit alone with the TV on.
An ordinary day, except there is one
where once there were two.
I know who killed me.
I have no body or voice. But–
you will know I still live here.
For Lillian’s dVerse prompt using titles of bad movies (the Razzie winners).