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.