EMPTIES

It's not the silence of 3am I miss,
nor the electric purr of the float,
nor the thrill of reaching

15 miles per hour on the High Street,
nor the satin-clad housewives
who bow like geishas

to pick their pints off freezing doorsteps,
nor the taut gold sovereigns
of bottle tops

reflecting the slow sluice of sunrise,
nor the babv-sick smell of a spill
not mopped up.

What I miss
is the chatter of a thousand empties
returning to the depot:

sleighbells echoing on fresh fallen snow.

- Julie Mellor

"Empties" by Julie Mellor won the Third Prize in the Diversity House (Excel for Charity) Poetry Competition 2009.