Loneliness

It's another early day
With prim hair and proper nails
I make my way
Before the church bells ring

For there she stands
With a wooden stick in her hand
Sometimes looming over my shoulder
But never once to whack
Not if I'm five minutes late, or ten
Or by a couple of hours
Not if my white shoes aren't white enough
'Cos I've rubbed borrowed chalk on their canvas

She lets us appreciate
What it takes to put a meal in front of us
Even if it is leftovers
To say itadakimaas
Not in terms of the currency
But sheer amount of detail on a plate
"Is the salt too little? Is it too spicy?"
Are questions some people never hear

When you run backwards on an escalator
She won't lend you a hand
But watches patiently
Until you lift yourself up, dust yourself off
And then maybe laugh a little
Before you go onwards in the right direction

Loneliness can be a harsh teacher
Until she becomes your best friend