There are droppings of you everywhere-
in my closet, my wellies, my bed and now my handbag.
That is what you do.
running around the house,
skipping, jumping, wiggling and dropping.
Going through the cupboard, the boxes, the drawers
picking up, pushing through, digging in to and pulling out of
so that you can drag it to another place, point, destination,
for no particular reason, other then it makes you giggle,
it makes me giggle.
Scattered pieces of you all over my life,
all over me
and I smile.
I always smile, when I think of you,
And I think of you,
I think of you often,
at work, at the shop, in the bank
at night, when I think that I am alone,
I find a piece of you behind the pillow,
in a handbag, slipped into my diary.
I am not alone.
You will always remind me of that.
and your mosaic self.