I never knew I’d miss
my mother and aunt in the corner, cackling
smoke-curses on a beige settee
me on the floor, pushing a plastic
thing back and forth
the natter meaningless to me, its
ashy ordinariness of
prattling about so-and-so
(who I didn’t know)
to me was just so much
background music
I never knew
that even a “Patty and Selma” chatter
would unfurl, grey out,
leave a stain on a clouded window
and here I sit on my white sofa
in my safe, tidy house,
double-glazed
window pane clean, and closed
I play my favourite songs
through inbuilt speakers,
surrounded by sound;
the scrolling never stops
I watch the world unroll,
listen to it playing out
on my devices. It
could be worse. But just today,
I could almost swear
for all the sound
I never knew I’d be
looking over to the corner,
longing for background music
In part inspired by it being Mother’s Day in the UK, and in part inspired by the self-isolation many are experiencing at this time. We are surrounded by noise. But I miss that background music.