Plump up the cushions

Plump up the cushions

Soak the mop

In soap free treatment

For real wood floors

Clean the worktops

Change the bed

Rearrange the bookcase

Most of them

Have been read

Ignore the family albums

Once again

Keep to a routine

It helps the day go by

There is no comfort

Or sense of pride

In trying to maintain

A standard

It is more an act

Of survival

A conscious effort

The fear of failing

A test in self-sufficiency

The world

Seems further away

With every step

Mired in the past

Muddied by yesterday

Leaving a trail

Across the light ash floor

To the solid Oak door

There will always

Be a reason

To return

And sweep clean

What remains,

Once again.