The Writing on the Wall
Jennifer Russell

I go to the back door
walking carefully over the green cobbles
remembering a horse slipping on its loud shoes
the noise against the high walls

The door is open
at least the top half swings
I lean in and pull the bar across

The stairs are holed
and I fear mice or worse
but I go upstairs to my old room

The paper has rolled away
Your name is on the wall
again and again
They covered it up for the wedding
They had chosen him

Outside on the front steps
I wait for the squeak of your bike
for someone who knows me