Caught Unawares

Everything was in the right place:

That morning blind routine

Requiring minimal conscious thought

I mean, the toothbrush and paste

We’re waiting, parked neatly - check

Second finger found the kettle switch – no problem

Fridge door opens, chilly jam and marmalade jars

Casually thrown up with right hand and caught in the left

No milk, no matter

Shoes on, front door unlocked

It’s a two minute walk shuffling through the autumnal leaf shower

A comforting orange red stillness

So quiet as if the pavements have stopped breathing

Or the trees have witnessed a rapture

I press on, disregarding the silence

There’s the shop, lights on

Checking my jacket pocket for the wallet I occasionally forget

I extend my hand to the door

It doesn’t open

It is difficult to convey just how deep

Is the shockwave that is travelling

In and out of my mind, my grip on normality,

Like some untold tide

For twenty years, maybe twice a week

The door, often left slightly open, yielded

But not this early unassuming Friday morning

I push again, my brain and my sense disconnecting

Cleaving into non-identical twins: wisdom and will

The one locked into a fierce debate with the other

One, calm, the other incapable of reading the runes

As ever committed to hopeless causes trying the handle once more

It is then that I’m shaken awake

The lesson once again makes me laugh quietly

As I turn, no milk in hand

And kick the leaves into another random pattern

Knowing again there is no right place

For things to be held

Like time itself, caught unawares

In it own spider’s web

Awaiting an unknowable fate:

The order of things is to be shaken

Before the final things to come

Yes, it’s good to be reminded

And walk back to where the cup of black tea

Is calling forlornly for what is missing