In depth of winter’s endless night,
you sensed my footstep as I searched.
Like you might hear a distant bell,
that called all Christians down to church.
You would spread yourself across,
into the space that I had left,
pull a pillow to your head,
vaguely felt, a sense of loss.
Wondering what I’d gone to seek,
hidden in the room beneath.
Next day we’d move as ghosts down stairs,
tread across the carpet’s sea.
Assured for visiting the day,
rummaging for cups of tea.
While you might pause reflecting there,
in burnished mirror by the chair.
Searching for what can’t be found,
years long gone that bound us tight.
Joy and laughter unconfined,
dizzying upwards bathed in light.
The sunlit shaft parades its line,
moves like a dial our passing time,
till there’s no foot upon the stair,
two heartbeats never more will share.