Friends, records and good times
reign supreme over nearly everyone
but pale ale towards insignificance
when you’re not here to hear the tale.
I pack a box of leftover dinner,
load and unload the dish washer
and check my phone three times
to see if you’ve landed or called.
An hour with myself does the job.
Much more and I share TV rants
with a despondent fridge freezer
who’s less fulfilling than you.
I need my echo-chamber of rights
quizzed by you up on a fence
with all the patience and reason
of a first-class degree in maths.
On Wednesday you’ll be back;
the trip not a scratch on those months
sat on other sides of the planet
sharing little news that meant more.
In through the hallway door
will walk a decade young cannon
of microscopic mannerisms
only we’re close enough to read.
So packed full of occasion,
this ten-year long opener has us
looking ahead to what we’ll do
and who we’ll welcome and raise.
An occasional niece or nephew
all the confirmation required
to show, whether I’m capable or not,
you’ve easily got it in the bag.
However great this status quo,
we’ll shake it up with plans.
If you’re not entirely content,
there’s no point as nor am I.
From the cluster of scribbles DISPATCH19