Waiting, on a Winter's day

I lay expectant on that couch
the blue one
with its back to the window
while my father's grandfather clock
my inheritance
ticked resolutely on.

Who was I waiting for?
I can't recall.
I only remember:
how bright the day was
how blue the sky
the dogs sprawled catatonic
absorbing dregs of heat
from the winter sun
while I lay on that blue couch
as my inheritance
ticked resolutely on.