Carol Ann Duffy


    I wait for your step
A jay on the cherry tree
    trembles the blossom.

    I name you my love
and the gulls fly above us
    calling to the air.

    Our two pale bodies
move in the late light, slowly
    as doves do, breathing.

    And then you are gone.
A night-owl mourns in darkness
    for the moon’s last phase.