The very last time he fell, just before he died finally
He hit the table,broke my beautiful lamp
I can’t fix it,so
I balanced the shade over the base
As if to pretend everything is alright.
But at night I have to use
a cheap little white amp.
i don’t understand.
Where has he gone?
Where do they all go,our loves?
mixed with the soil, the clay,
come to nothing
broken down into particles
fragments is too big for a describing word.
where are the hands I held.
but I let him go
let go,let go,let go
let him go.
some nights
he was assailed by strange feelings
I sat or lay by him and read him stories
He liked Stan but mostly Emile
even in the day time,he said,
this doesn’t feel like our house any more
and he said
we’ll be going home soon,won’t we?
yes,we’ll be going home,I said.Darling.
going home without him
is it my home without him
Where’s dad, he said one night
He died,I said.I’m sorry.
why are we still here,
and not in the northern hills?
he asked.
what could I say?
we don’t live there any more.
still I have his ashes so
maybe I’ll
take him to Roseberry Topping
because I like the name.
Or maybe I’ll keep him here by me
i’d like to get into a little space
and crouch in a curled up ball for safety.
only the cat would know or Philip
but he’s broken his hand.
not surprised really
he won’t find me.
anyway
He went away without me.
How my heart sings 