Sun up. The foxes have fallen silent
I hear pigeons and sparrows and magpies
The air is quite cool but the sky is blue
Patsy is still sleeping : she will wake soon
and I will bring her coffee without which
she simply cannot function my pleasure
to serve her and to see her eyes light up
In the house that Jack built
it’s the simple
gestures that keep the ball of love rolling
How strange to think that one day all this will
be over What will become of our words?
How will all the love we have known transcend
to another level of universe
as we hand our carbon
back to the earth?