She left without a sign,
without a farewell turn.
I saw her shaking shoulders 
and thought she was sobbing 
from a nightmare as she 
often used to in the past.

All I could think of 
was to get a glass 
for her dentures
which had fallen out,
and how she never forgot 
to soak them before she retired.

Strange, how silly details
become so important in a crisis, 
I could almost hear her
telling me what to do,
her voice calm, 
with just that hint of urgency.

I did it, too, fast dialling the doc,
calling the paramedics,
taking out her emergency medicine 
with fumbling fingers,
phoning Ron, our neighbour.

Afterwards, her brother asked
why didn't I remember
to call him immediately at the time 
seeing he was the nearest kin,
and the closest in the line.

Well, I shall not atone 
for, at least, that sin,
believing blood calls on its own. 

Had he not known 
anything, at all? Had he not been 
waiting for that phone?
No premonition? None?
And anyway, was he as alone
as I am now, or shall be soon
as the realisation 
slowly starts to sink in?
                        

The workman crawled up
the steep slope of the urban mount,
vertical rock face going straight 
up to the heights,
dish antennae, solar panels 
and the like planted on its peak, 
flags of modern existence that speak
the language of apparent ascent,
of utility and sustainability, 
where technology 
is the new mythology. 

In the mellow winter sunshine 
as he hangs from his harness, 
suspended by the slightest of threads,
in the swaying momentum 
of the moment, does his head hum
as he breathes the rare air?

Does the thought of a plunge,
a dactylic descent in life's rhythm 
cross his mind, the shiver of a shadow 
momentarily darkening the window?