Derailed

Dear George,

I heard you come in late last night,

Stealthy in the hall below.

I heard you making toast, I think,

Though no smell stirred my appetite.

*

Last week I saw you on the street,

Not where you should have been.

I stood and watched you walk away,

My ribs a cage for my heart beat.

*

I cooked your favourite weekend treat,

And laid your place for you.

You never came to sit with me.

Alone, I did not want to eat.

*

In a shop, I smelled you pass me,

On someone else’s skin.

You wafted through the citrus fruit,

And I was lost in memory.

*

At night I reach to pull you near,

To feel there’s nothing there.

I love you still, but George, I’m angry,

You chose to go, and leave me here.

*

So if you find this note jarring,

It’s how it feels to live,

The rhythms off, the rhymes abnormal,

The pattern of my bitter grief.

Sincerely

Sam