Thoughts on Loss. By CpSingleton. © 2016
You have a default lovely side when you’re drunk.
One that remembers nice things:
The walks through apple blossom as the breeze
Manipulated a confetti storm of delicate
White petals to flitter about our amazed,
The bonfire night by the Wharfe.
Across its whispering waters, carrying
Images of dancing flames, stood
The silhouette of Bolton Abbey.
Hand in hand, we gasped at the fireworks as they
Exploded over history and us.
Our first day out together:
Both with money in the other jeans,
The foreign coins we used to pay for chips.
Innocence masked as we handed them over
To the busy, flustered cashier.
Never once did you think of those moments
When we were floating within and around them.
Your eyes were too busy looking for
The next best thing; without knowing what it was.
Then, when you thought you were inside
Its bed, you realised you had already had it and lost it…
Only then do you text.