There is a cool breeze coming through the open door, sounds of dogs snoring and birds calling goodnight

cars driving past and muffled sounds of music from neighboring houses, delicious smells of barbecues

The evening is warm, the fan circles wearily overhead, the TV boringly blares in a corner of the room

and I am thinking of my Mum, wondering how she is and wishing she was here so we can chat and drink tea

we would talk about the state of the world, the family and her art, while we talk we sip tea, warm and sweet

we would laugh she would say that the dog is asking for something and I would say the dog does not talk

we would talk about books we have read and we would do the latest crossword puzzle and think of Dad

we would discuss what we have done today and what we will do tomorrow and we would play cards

we might look at what’s on TV and watch the news, talking about what we see and hear, serious

we could eat chocolate and play uno and laugh at memory loss and silliness, talk about her health

we would talk of stories from our shared past. walks we have done together, family members now gone

thinking of my Mum at the end of the day, hearing the sounds of the night and feeling the breeze on my back