Sad to think I’ll never write this poem again.
Very soon now, this line will end. The next one
And in a just a few moments, I’ll be typing
the final full stop
But how much sadder all those paths we’ve trodden –
I’m thinking of the last child of mine I hoisted
above my head, the last time I ran into bowl,
the last night we slept in each other’s arms –
not knowing we’d never pass this way again.