After the Child Rush

Twenty-four years of teasing and wailing
and joking and bickering and laughing
and arguing over piano practice and late lifts home
and revision and clearing up behind you and TV
and messy rooms
 
have walked out the door
 
and the
               silence
 
is a foreign visitor who, it seems,
has come to stay;
 
                        we're awkward
in its company, feeling our way
to read its subtleties, not sure what
to say to make it feel at home.