Through a Lens
They turned and looked at me as I stood
half in the doorway, half in the hall, unaware
this had been brewing long before the leaves
of trust were bagged up in the coal shed. All eyes
speaking louder than a bloody lip, screams
lashing out across the room. In silence
we just stood; I looked at him, he at her,
each one in turn more disbelieving of
the scene. Broken with Go back upstairs,
my gaze fell to the floor. Those words again
from him this time, as anger pushed hard
through my face and fifteen years collapsed
with each retraced step. I wondered how to fix
the future, which seemed shattered now; worse
than her glasses on the floor.
Robert Harper
First published on the website Ink, Sweat & Tears