no book

I imagine the room will be small
with pale blue walls
and a neat bed
with a thin coverlet
perhaps a curtained window
overlooking a communal garden
like the one we had
at the flats you never came to

there will be a bedside table
but no books
except for the one you leave behind
after your visit
with the black covers
alongside that copy of The Racing Post
the cleaner was reading

I’d send it back to you
if you hadn’t gone on ahead
I only back certainties now
want no book at all

respite in blue

my doctor asked me a while back
whether I smoked
I said no
but I’m thinking of taking it up again
he didn’t laugh
but then I wasn’t joking

I used to think life without smoking
wouldn’t be worth living
what it bought you was
a respite in blue

my mother used to say
a cigarette was her one last friend
I never knew what she meant till now

so long anyhow