There was a lamp,
it was un-lit in studies.
A reclining chair,
seated
a few inches
from a desk,
but the occupier
had gone,
cushion dimpled
from a pair of cheeks.
Someone would return,
perhaps later
with an idea
for a New Topic.
Dream cheeses;
English Chreaddar,
Pen unRoule, Camusembert,
Blue Stillllon,
flavoursome word bites.
“Do you think that’s it for today?”
the mouse asked,
tail curled in the dusk,
half snoozing
with the glow
of being last handled;
lateness showing signs
of weary Windows
being closed, one by one.
Powerless cables
couldn’t give a “Goodnight” shrug,
too late to Add Reply.
