my knowledge of your love for me
is the shade of a full-leaved tree across my heart;
it brings calm
and the possibility of sleep
I do not trust
I do not trust your predictions
You were holding your crystal ball when you fell
Looking at distant horizons not one step beyond
Now scarred and bruised below the eyes you tell me what will come
I will fight against it
you know
I will fight
avoiding
the woman standing at the bus stop
with two empty cat-carrier cases
is not making eye contact with the world
now the fog has cleared
now the fog has cleared
sky limpid, sun on green hils
oh how you are missed
I like foggy days
I like foggy days
I can pretend you are here
oh
how much you are missed
Father Christmas
Julia, 3 years old, is sitting on my lap
Are you Father Christmas?
No, no I’m not.
But you’ve got a white beard.
Yes, but that’s because I didn’t shave during the lockdown.
And you bring us presents.
Yes, but that’s in the summer when we visit, not at Christmas.
…
…
And you’ve got a big big belly!
…
…
Ok, you got me. I AM Father Christmas!
year three quarters done
autumn beginning
winds freshen, a first spitting
still you are not here
we were distant
we were distant
but our hearts quickened the same
blood pumped
sweat ran
in my mind
I breathed your breath
hummingbird
I was thinking of you
and a hummingbird flew into the kitchen.
I had to tell you.
the you-shaped space
the you-shaped space within my arms
aches my chest with emptiness
soon? one day? it is all unknown
