Michael Higgs

Taking the road together and testing
things as we go along

A golden sky above the fields,
a warm and soft breeze;
here we walked, holding hands
(you always used to stroke my palm)
heading towards a blue strand.

I felt like I could leap
from star to star, gathering,
on my way, both the sun
and the moon, and mingle them
in a test tube.

I don’t know why I’m constantly
reminded of your face, your warmth,
stupid details like how you sipped your tea,
or how you leaned your body close to mine
when we strolled on a path through the woods –
almost stumbling over our feet.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this –
I guess I just wanted to let you know
that after all this time, I realise
how hard it is being alone,
with nobody to lean on,
and making tea for one,
each time I wake up.

Michael Higgs is a London-based publishing editor and part-time culture writer for The Upcoming, where his theatre reviews appear regularly. Raised in Germany, he returned to the UK to study English at KCL. He has a fascination with existentialist literature and spends his leisure time exploring the London docklands.