I thought that the evenings would be the worst.

But they do not even come close.

They can be eased with drink, and chatter.

They are soothed by the weariness of a work day.

They can be managed with music.

They are distracted by show and cinema.

Nothing eases the morning loneliness of a cool empty house.

Where upon waking I was greeted by the wagging tail of a happy dog,

And the sounds of exercise and liveliness in a room below,

And the warmth of knowing my love was close by.

The mornings are the worst.

Humbly yours,

J