voices emerged from the garden
as i walked past the stairs.
i didn’t know what i was doing —
intruding
on something private,
breaking the atmosphere
of an afternoon meant
for softness, and quiet.
i overheard my neighbour ask
when i’m coming home again.
my mother, oblivious,
said i’d be here for christmas.
she stopped dead
in her tracks
as my voice came out —
hi.
too loud.
no one said a word.
she looked at my father,
about to cry.
our neighbours glanced
at each other,
then rose from their chairs.
a dog, i realised,
was licking my hand.
surprise.
this one is about a surprise visit, where you realise, home isn't quite how you left it.
