There would be no sun in the mornings

No smell of freshly baked fairy cakes or

Coffee shop conversations

The hills we once wandered became car parks overnight

There would be no smiles, no laughter

Creaking like an ancient door that has marked

The threshold of grateful generations

When we realise there’s salt in the custard, instead of sugar

I sit here thinking, ‘One day this will be real’

And when that day comes there would be no reason to life - no colour, no music, no warmth, nothing but an empty chair in a dead living room.

Then I remember every time you stood and put your arms around me, to see you, to know you, to meet you, to grow to match you and now to cradle you in turn and I know

Without you, there will always be

The hope that we will meet again

_‘We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when…’_