On the First Time Since

Warm hand on my shoulder, ‘you’ve been sleeping since eight’

We’ve arrived. Squeaky trolley takes the luggage’s weight

Find the fob, call the lift, ride cold light to ninth floor

The key turns in the lock, just as smooth as before

Stumble through in the dark. Sheets like ghosts in the gloom

shrouding couch, table, telly- each a thing to exhume

Hand on wall, feel my way, Dymo-labelled ‘Main Switch’

In the light, so familiar.

On the first time since

Crunching salt in the window cranks, crusted spray where door slides

Throw them open, the ocean comes tumbling inside

Rumbling black waves, fragrant coast air

So unchanged, and yet different now you are not there

Sheets plucked from the furniture we’ll use the next day

Don’t unpack the suitcase. It won’t be a long stay.

Bread in the breadbox, milk in ancient old fridge

-gasped and hummed back to life,

On the first time since

Smile at handwritten notes, can guess addressee

‘Flush slowly’, ‘Open gently, not past 90 degrees’

As you look down on us now, from canvas and frames

I hope you know this respect will live on with your name

Out on the balcony, almost ready for bed

The lights of the ships speak to journeys ahead

Heady with memories. Bring my cup to my lips

And the tea tastes like salt,

On the first time since