LAST NIGHT

                                             For Ursula

                                           I imagine your last night

                                          went according to routine

                                          quite ordinary, in fact -

                                          no sudden blinding flash of insight -

                                          nothing to suggest

                                          deep significance - nor hint

                                          of the event to come.

                                          I imagine you nightgowned

                                          and sipping a hot drink

                                          with a pad upon your knee -

                                          a line or two - some thought

                                          you needed to jot down -

                                          a reminder or a poem -

                                          perhaps a bit of both.

                                          I imagine those final acts -

                                          the locking up of doors

                                          fresh water by your bed

                                          and a book you'd partly read

                                          with its marker like a tongue

                                          sticking out, your slippers neat

                                          and waiting on the rug.

                                          I imagine your last dreams -

                                          how they took you far away

                                         'though you travelled wearily

                                         and the ticket was one way

                                         no alarm can wake you now

                                         and dawn will never come

                                         for, for you the night goes on