To Anna To the charity shops we’d always go leaving our men behind For both of us would fill with joy when a bargain we would find You went for subtle colours, I went for something bright We’d say if something suited, or if it was too tight We’d chat about our lives and things that went on in the world Our bodies, death and taxes, with no thought of what unfurled For we collected clothes as if we’d live a hundred years Then go back and drink Prosecco, have a laugh and shed no tears When we spoke by phone you told me you were sick and tired Your lungs were bad and other things, the doctors had inquired. You said you couldn’t do much and on Graeme you relied. You told me he’d been wonderful. I could feel your pride Even when he called us and said your time was short No she’ll get better in the end, that was what i thought You didn’t though you left. Now I won’t see you again. But I’ll remember you till I die, and somehow you remain And I’ll so miss you in those charity shops, and tasting fizzy wine Lynne