Shade by Ian Hill
A fleeting shadow lingers in this space
And stirs a mouldering tracery of leaves
Beside the chimney’s empty fire place.
A restless figure drowsing in a chair
Moans briefly as it flits across the wall
Along the darkened hallway up the stair
To shift and drift across the landing floor
As if in fitful search for something lost
Until it pauses by an open door
And moves into a shaded shuttered room
Where all is calm and ordered in its place
Inside this silent chamber wreathed in gloom
And there a nightgown waiting on the bed
For when its mistress shall her steps retrace
Returning to the life that once she’d led.