to Harriet (1956-1987)

I want to wake before dawn again

stretch out my arm

and find you there beside me.

I want to lie in purple half-light

listening to the songs of birds and

the content of your purring snoring.

I want to stroke your dreaming face

brush your cheek with a loving kiss

and taste again your sleep-stale breath.

I want to bury my head

in your pillow to bathe my soul

in the scent of lavender.  

I want to roll onto your warm bed-half 

snuggling

while you make coffee in the kitchen.

I want to duet with your falsetto

‘Just One Cornetto’ and glimpse you naked

through frosted glass and shower steam.

I want to watch you ironing

in a baggy shirt of mine, and laughing,

groan at your off-key soprano.

I want to know if when you let go

that final breath, and braved the dark

where yellow streetlamps cannot reach 

did you look back and think of me?