You may have chosen to go.
But you are still here.
In the grass, the sunshine, clouds and air.
You are here.
Your arms are around me.
Your smile still brightens my days.
Your laughter rings through the house.
Your friends still call and drop in.
We speak of you like you will be back next week,
having just popped out of town for a gig.
All these places remember you well – our street, the corner shop, the bus stop, the bakery and the local pub.
Your things are still strewn around the house.
Your pictures everywhere – even the ones you don’t like.
The thoughts of you are constantly here.
Our memories play themselves over and over again,
like a film in front of my eyes through which I see the world.
House, Friends, South Park and The Office are still on TV.
Stand up comics are on too.
Top Gear is gone for a while but it’ll be back soon.
I told you that guy was a goon.
The lawn is ready for mowing.
The cricket is on.
Exams are over.
Most kids are back home for the summer.
You are in every French conversation that I hear.
In Arabic too.
You are in the drumbeats of every song.
In every beat of my heart.
There are traces of you everywhere.
My life is sublime because you are there.