Charlie and I walked our post-cancer walks
Down this narrow stretch of green in the city
For a full decade. Now he's gone, I must carry on.
We aged together, blended into each other,
Man and Dog. He recognized the smells, me the sights,
But his life was shorter than mine. That afflicted me like
A sentence. Very few minutes passed
Without me thinking of that.  He connected me to the
Pack, little knowing it was the human herd that I found
Most offensive, most absurd. I tried to fly past those nets
Of race, nationality and religion. A new Daedalus come
To cry: “my medium is the heavens, my medium is the sky.”
But we walked slower and slower each day, me clearing
Up his shit, him watching the dreary Manchester sky.
Until that terrible time came to  say our long goodbye.

A recording of my reading of ‘Drinking where the river bed is dry’.