Summer 2010 Poetry Competition First Prize

Breakfast in Bed

by Sherri Turner


Leaving for the spare room, he sighs

more loudly than he needs to.

She snores now, apparently.

So does he.

She always keeps the other bed made up,

these days.

Those days

there was no need.

Tired out from Saturday night

they slept till late

then filled their bed with sweat and laughter

and ate toast carelessly.

These days their bed is no longer the safe space it was

for Sunday mornings

or night time

or ever.


He is dressed already.

Old men discuss football on the TV.

Early as it is, it is too late

to suggest breakfast in bed,

so she retreats upstairs to shower,

and ache for the days when it was never too late

for crumbs between the sheets.

 ©2010 Sherri Turner

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