I breathed in as you exhaled.
It was like a thought bubble had bloomed which filled the room when all my feelings popped kaboom’s.
Tiny crackles, major pops.
Icicles on stickledrops.
Like sticklebacks but always falling.
Raindrops shouting, snowmen calling.
Waiting in parks because the ice cream man’s here.
Dancing in puddles and knowing no fear.
Best friends holding hands as calender sheets fall.
January, February, March as he leaves to join the war.
My thought bubble pops and I’m aware once more.
She’s twenty, at the kitchen table, holding his photograph and trying not to cry.
All I can do is watch.
© G.P Williamson 2017