Where Are You?
You haven’t gone, have you?
I didn’t hear you leave
And you didn’t say goodbye
So where are you?
Australia have been beaten in a test match
We need to gloat
I’ve found a line in a poem you have to see
A perfect quote
We have to finish writing that lost act in Macbeth
Never to be read
And I have a new song I would love you to hear
Stuck in my head
There’s an obituary today in the Times
You have to call me for
A tale about an old man you met in a caff
Remembering the War
Talking stuff, rambling words, the wild depth of speech
Hours never alone
And the simple joy to hear the sound when it was
You on the phone
Your ringtone was Strawberry Fields - the opening notes
Now nothing is real
I can hear the intake of smoke and glug of wine
The slow Achilles heel
That rotted your body but insisted your mind
Must know and wait
So no insults on my voicemail from you
It’s all too fucking late
Where is the book in the jiffy bag you will send
To land on my mat
For no other reason than you thought I’d like it
Who else would do that?
Our parting lines: ‘Do not go gentle..’ ‘So we beat on..’
Severed in the air
We traded in words and laughter, music and hope
It was love that took us there
No, you haven’t gone