The Night Bench

This is where my neighbour sits
when she can't sleep.

Which is most nights.

There was snow on the ground
this time last year.

That didn't stop her.

I recall waking to not a sound.
Waking to that peace you get
when snow has fallen or is falling.

She saw me at my window
and raised a hand.
Lifted it as is if she was holding a glass,
beckoned me with the other hand.
Inviting me for a drink.

A drink in the snow.

I would have gone
but knew that bastard of a husband
she had, still has, wouldn't understand.