No preamble today. Straight into the poem.
Until next time.
At first I thought you slept,
lost in the self-profiling bed,
amid the necessary machinery
that crowds your room these days.
I can't say how I knew,
something kinetic had gone,
slipped away in that last sigh,
the one I missed, stuck in traffic.
We wait for the duty nurse to sign you off.
as if everyday we had not wished
you to be at peace
and now you are gone,
leaving the four of us
with our individual beliefs of what comes after.Here's REM with Half a World Away from BBC Two's Late Show.