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Driving home I was confused.

We had sat and talked

From two till after four.

Mostly inconsequential

Unil near the end

We talked of money

Skirting round

The shadow in the room

Agreeing that we needed

Proper legal help.

But only driving home did I recall

That was the first time

In more than sixty years

That we had been alone together

For more than fleeting moments.

How often have I heard at funerals

Whispered regrets

That now it was too late.

We must talk again.

Brian Hick April 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 4.4.24