In the corner there, where we slept together

so many nights, I’ve at last

sat down (still travelling). The sofa for defunct lovers,

has been removed – or who knows just what’s come to pass.

You’re not here now. It’s the corner where,

remember, we were reading that night? Side-by-side?

Your gentle advice! I always did say I loved your tips! Remember

the secret poems, my Apollinaire? It’s the corner

I will always love best – don’t doubt it.

I’m determined to remember days

of lost summer, your coming and going,

too little and too much, pale, room to room.

On this rainy night,

both far off, I jump suddenly.

It’s two doors, opening and shutting,

two doors the wind is opening, shutting

shadow                    to                         shadow.