Cloudwatching - Kirsty McGee

Were she here now i think i would make coffee

Just to hear the hum of good machines

The sound of her voice seems to echo in the walls

In the plaster and the paint

Like a bee inside a jar

Summer slips by in tattered old clothes

Six seasons passed in cloudwatching

Miracle plants that bloom in the winter and die in the spring

I watch for her return

Were she here now i think i’d make her coffee

Or some other faux pas like before

The sound of her breathing seems to echo in the walls

In the plaster and the brick

Like a bee inside a jar

Summer slips by in tattered old clothes

Six seasons passed in cloudwatching

Miracle plants that bloom in the winter and die in the spring…

And if i listen hard enough

I hear her footsteps in the hall…