Last Night Poem by Gert Strydom

Last night your skin
was warm and soft
and I could feel your breath
against my cheek.

The winter wind
was rattling the roof
and sand was blown against the window
like a burst of rain.

Somewhere a neighbours’ dog howled
at the moon and I could hear,
the big old avo tree
whipping on the roof.

Every now and then
a avo fell with a bang
against the roof,
but you slept on.

The big bed was hot
and fire flamed in my blood
and as you twisted and turned
to sleep on,
your scent filled my head.