Always room
Nothing felt like it was missing.
The dogfish sat in its stink
as usual, dust rimming its jar.
The harmonium’s pedals
were no less worn.
Beryl’s granddad hung
imperturbable on the wall.
The hen made the difference.
It snuck around the parlour door,
feathers bringing in rain
and blackcurrant scent. Beryl and I
were busy duetting Abide with Me –
the only tune we knew how to play –
and didn’t notice the hen until
it squawked during a fumbled middle C.
We squabbled over the egg.
One of the overalled uncles
ate it with chips, his lips masking
the sound of making ends meet.
Lovely detail, great ending. Not certain what an imperturbable looks like when hung on the wall. Perhaps ‘imperturbable’ could begin the sentence (and be a line on its own?)