The cold is beginning to haunt me.

Just before winter.

He does not ask to speak to me and I let his voice go on
in the background over the loud sound-flicker
of distraction. There is so much life around at the moment
it is hard to refocus; I talk to you of other people’s name choices,
a putting-on of weight, family traits. It is the first sign I’ve had

that there is less of him to look for, and grasp thankfully
for your gift of a winter-coat hope. I am silent.
This is not something I agree with in principle
but there are soft protective layers around my own thinned skin
and I do not fancy that persistent arctic wind.