They are like quotes out of context:
They have a different meaning here.

Whining gives way to wine, and
Sitting up straight on office chairs
To lounging on a deliciously low sofa.

When they could be with anyone.
They choose to spend time with
The one whose time they’re always given.

Their faces always used to be
A bad start to my day, stern
In those minutes of eerie calm
Between first bell and second.

But on Thursday evening, they soften
Into smiles as their words
Are allowed out to play.

Perhaps they remember my sheepish face
Glimpsed through the window in
Too many mornings. Perhaps
They noticed the weariness
Weighing down my despairing eyelids
Before I did.

I remember them. They take me
Back to a time that was
More difficult than I admitted then,
When my responsibility found a place
Far too readily.

Seven years on, my life has changed
Suddenly again, and those lonely days
Feel increasingly distant, almost alien,
Like it cannot be me who endured them.

They remain exactly where they are,
Jarring with my new life but
Reminding me how glad I am
To have left the old one behind.

11/17/2016

Posted on 12/03/2016
Copyright © 2025 Richard Vince