I dreamed of you
opening the living room door
the rush of the high pile carpet
was in my ears.
That always used to annoy me
like a warning signal that you were coming in
to stop me playing computer games.
This time I only wished to hear what you had to say
but the midnight rain interrupted us.
Alex J Rankin 
These poems of grief offer the exactness of yearning 💜 – Alex, very pleased you are writing them. 🙏🏽 Tish
Thank you very much, Tish. I’m just beginning as a flood of memories have started to emerge. It’s tough but is helping me to process.