In reflective mood

He would have been sixty eight this year,

I am sixty nine.

We would still be so in love,

Though far more inclined

to sit in different rooms,

to do our separate things,

but knowing we are together

under one roof.

We would still hold hands

as we watch a sloppy film,

munching too many chocolates,

and kiss before we sleep.

If he was still alive.

When we go out together

he would need his stick,

still troubled by his hip,

but we would still shop.

he would still say yes,

that looks good on you,

buy it and this one too.

and we would have some lunch

in the café on the corner.

Then we would go home

and I'd cook some tea

for John and me.

If he was still alive