A Slice of Sky

When summer's retreat kisses the treetops with fire

When bright chilly mornings are filled with pine cones and crunchy leaves

I look out and up, and I think,

You picked the most beautiful time of year to go

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When the pale clouds split to let brave sunshine through

When the red kite soars and swerves, tail sticking two fingers up to the sky

I look around, and I think

There is beauty, after all, in there being an ending

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When I pull my fleece tighter, and the forest smells like damp earth

When the nights crowd in closer, and the fire crackles

I look inward, and I marvel

How much of you there still is, all round, even if it's not enough

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When the season's turning nudges my mind to the ending of things

The edges of things

When you are everywhere and nowhere all at once

I unfocus my ears and I can almost hear your friendly footstep

Your car engine, the handbrake, the door

There is a lurch in my body, see just then, I almost went to put the kettle on

The biggest mug, strong, two sugars, milk

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I look around at all the things (people) you missed

Which is worse, somehow, than us missing you

We miss you and miss you and miss you

And that could topple me, if I wasn't careful

The wave retreats

I make my tea

I drink it

I'm fine

Perhaps you are only in the next room after all

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Your grandchildren lick the plate with a cheeky twinkle in their eyes

I catch myself saying things you'd say, or doing things you'd do

Listening to music you loved

Even closer than that

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The colour drains, and your footsteps fade a little

The chill bites, and I can hardly hear the echo of your baritone

The gap where you should be is colder and emptier than everywhere else

When Spring peeks, your whistle is faint

Was it birdsong after all?

In Summer's broil you feel an ocean away

But back, surely, on the next ferry

You always hated to fly

Closest of all, only a breath away, when the world turns again

Turns cooler, alight with colour

I look out and up

And I stand with you a while

To watch the red kite

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