Hand in Hand

When we approached the pelican crossing,
your hand unexpectedly grabbed at mine
for the first time in over forty years,
your palm shocking me with its snug smoothness

as if it had never been away.
How long remains till I reach
again for David’s hand?
Will it be there?

Only Child

A dozen family funerals in,
I’m starting to feel like a character
in an Agatha Christie mystery,

waiting for the light tap on my shoulder
from a burly copper at the behest
of the nation’s favourite detective

to let me know my number’s up at last
and I’m the only one left alive,
led off to meet my fate, guilty as charged.