Hiraeth – a tanka

Triggered by a scent
or a familiar song.
Or a smiling face
spotted in a photograph
or glimpsed from a passing bus.

On a twilight train
looking through shining windows
of passing houses
wanting just a taste of their
abundant prosperity.

I envy that life
free of pain and poverty –
just mum, dad, the kids.
Sharing placid contentment.
Safety. Opportunity.

Christmas time is worst.
The overflow of goodwill
never wets my shoes
as I walk a lonely path
eyes glancing covetously

Through crisp lace curtains
at gifts heaped beneath the tree.
A telly playing
to an empty chesterfield,
I wonder who will sit there

After supper’s done.
Pots washed. Settling down to watch
Coronation Street.
Send the kids to bed because
they will ruin the Bond film.

My room needs warming.
Someone’s loving hand to squeeze.
A kiss on my neck
as you pass for no reason
other than pure love for me.

I’ll love you, sweetie.
I’ll make our lives magical.
I’ll change the nappies.
I’ll sleep in the wet patches.
I’ll let you hog the duvet.

Come soon, the waiting is crippling.