Death is a little like this,

the way it knocks out the lights

and sends you room to room

blindly searching wardrobes

and turning out draws for

a battery, a torch

or some utility

with which to respond

to this impossible new reality.

While the unthinking part of you

keeps expecting

to flick a switch

and return this house

to some scene, years ago

when it rained but the lights

stayed on.