The End of the World

Thank you for the tea

She says

Scrambling down 

From the kitchen table

Were there gifts 

When you were born 

She asks

Gazing dreamily 

Out of the window

I scrape the butter

Across my toast 

Never one for gossip 

Perhaps someone laughed

I reply 

In my head I know they didn't

But there are some ghosts

You cannot lay to rest 

They fill your stomach with remorse 

Make you carry an umbrella

When the sun is shining brightly

Perhaps the world

Ends here

With a prayer 

And a re-birth

We close our eyes

And imagine.