The Walking Woman...

You wake up, go downstairs to the kitchen..
You grab a glass, running the cold water and look out the window.
She's there, in her brown clothes, with her brown hair.
Walking.

It's mid morning, you're on the phone chatting.
You clear up as you walk around the house.
Without thinking, you look out the kitchen window whilst listening to the voice on the phone.
She's still there.
Walking.

Afternoon comes and you're feeling peckish.
You look through the cupboards for something to nibble on.
Your gaze passes the kicthen window.
She's there, in her brown clothes, on her brown chair.
Eating.

Sunset, you're washing up.
Mountains of dishes, pots and pans, that old Germany football cup in front of you.
Bored, you look around.
You look out the window.
She's there, on her brown bike.
Cycling.

Night time, you have guests.
You make something small for them to eat.
The kettle's bubbling, and you get the cups ready.
You reach for a spoon, and you look outside.
She's there, in her brown cardigan, with her brown hair.
Walking.