There was a robin today.

Not massive news I know,
but they say those who have passed
fly in on wings, and I knew you’d arrived
for a laugh, or quite possibly
the sausage roll crumbs dusting the path
‘cause I remembered you saying
the good people at Greggs must fill them
with crack, and I’m carnivore enough
not to argue the toss over calories.

Did you arrive because at that moment
I was thinking of your reaction
to my clothes folded neatly next to me
on a hospital chair. How you’d of made
a wild fuss about trademarking for sure,
stolen my left crutch and wheeled off
into the night, as if we were two
lame ducks trying to top-trumps
our daily fight.

Truth is, I fucking missed you today.

You and your reckless humour
at the root of everything good.
How I could use one of those calls
that turned into a five hour tirade of bad gags
and misdemeanours, you saying something like
“what’s the matter wacky races,
run out of charge?”

… how I wish you were here to talk to

about the way
I mourn bones in the grave,
how you’d have known that this
is a process you go through
to claim back the fuckening of your body
and the nightly curl of its question mark.

There was a robin today.

Not massive news, I know,
but I got to thinking how
cigarettes were your only halo
and how you never wore so much
as a hint of white.

Can’t help but think
you’d be racing Saint Peter
in that charge towards the light.

Written by Northern_Soul (-Missy-)
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