So I was there, days later
To collect the things you'd left
Carry what I could, the rest
Would follow in a week
So I was there, amongst your papers
Remembering when the ink was wet
And all the words not finished yet
All the pages incomplete.
And if I thought the wind rose as I carry them away
Felt the clouds performing sunlight on the page
And if I felt them shifting, if I thought you were listening
If I saw you, I didn't say.