You’ve Gone

You’ve Gone

You’ve Gone

To Stuart

You’ve gone
A few hours ago I left you at the pier
Unlike the glass we dumped yesterday
You stared as I drove up the brae
Powerless to object
Unable to prevent another routine parting
Almost colliding with a careering late comer
I reached home intact
Internal wounds to nurse
Cold to combat and
Overwhelming tiredness from days of fighting off grief
I know compared to other horrors
It’s nothing all this
As we are told it’s only  four months
It will fly
In no time you’ll be back and we can –
If spared – begin again
This stop start intimacy
This patiently learnt curling about each other asleep
This waking fresh with surprise to offer a tenderness souls are able to dream.
With each homecoming and renewal
The curling becomes easier. More profound.
We’re getting to know what we are doing
And so far when the order’s come
We’ve undone it all gracefully.
But what say – like the laurel I weeded yesterday -
A fresh tendril prised apart should snap
No longer able to bear the parting.
Just what say ...