It’s National Poetry Day. So here’s a very personal poem:
You were half a world away, planning
peaceful revolutions. You lunched at
breakfast, slept at tea, woke as I fell
asleep. My wheels turned on daily
journeys, willing your return.
A two week sentence separated us
the day I got a puncture. I made
vows for this: still, revolution is hard.
There was no time to fix the bike –
without you, life gets complicated