My Poetry: Suburban Dusk Falls

Suburban Dusk Falls

---

Suburban dusk falls,
illuminating the sitting room
sanctuaries of the Saturday night
stay-ins;
I watch the tv
through the couples window
wonder why they sit
on opposite sides
of the couch,
if they still kiss
an electric glow thrown
from brushed cotton lap top
highlights the lines
on her sallow face,
her partner starts
to channel hop
so bored
I turn my feet
head to the end
of the street,
past pairs of friends
past half empty pubs
past orange lamps
to an empty couch
and ask myself
if given the choice
would I swap my lifestyle
with those strangers
and I know...
half of me would.