I buy a cone of chips from the van
then walk all the way along the coastpath
to the lighthouse, where we first met.
The chips go cold (I didn't really
want them) so I spend twenty minutes
throwing them to seagulls
who caw and swoop and snap.
I sort of wonder if I'd got it wrong.
About the love, and that.
All at once, a pair of hands
land on my shoulders like parrots.
I turn - you're beaming
in rubber gloves (you know this bit
of course). You wiggle your fingers
and do that half-smirk
you know I love.
'My hands were cold,' you shrug,
'and I've lost my mittens.'
And just like that, we hug,
we're back.
No comments:
Post a Comment