At the spire
I go to meet you at the Spire,
It towers into the sky, piercing it like a hypodermic,
There is a spray of oil soaked rain drops as it sticks into the mud-grey sky.
It is a miserable day and so am I in sympathy.
It has been a long hard week,
Filled with drudgery and disappointment,
I see you at the base you look at me and smile.
You only seem to use that smile with me,
No one else who knows you can describe your smile the way that I see it.
It uses your whole body,
An explosion of emotion that shines from your face,
It looks involuntary,
Like you couldn’t stop it even if you wanted to,
And it is for me alone,
The misery in my heart has been blown away,
The dark weather takes a second stage,
And I am me again, with you.