My footsteps resounds on the yellow wood floors

My footsteps resound
on yellow wood floors
and around me rooms are empty
as you have left
and have taken most of our possessions along.

Every step feels like into a strange place
and still I have been living here for years
and everything is really well known
and I hear the dogs barking outside
even before my cellular phone rings

and your lover wants to talk to me
and I send him straight to hell,
but he phones again
and says that he is outside at the gate.

I tell him that I am not interested
and to drive off
but still he stays
and the dogs and I
have the inclination
to get hold of him

and when I come out of the house
there is thunder in me
and at the gate he drives away
with screaming tires
ripping the grass out
of the sidewalk
and stripes are left on the tar road.

I make some tea
while my blood is boiling
and want to phone you, but what the hell
and whatever you want
can go and lie with your lap dog
and I have nothing more to say to you

and the house is empty without you
and without your children’s voices,
but there a serenity folding over me
and I am without you
and it’s a blessing
the value of that I note much later.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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