Your perfume following me,

drifting down familiar streets

where once we shared

our time.
Lingering,

in shop doorways…
Wrapped around street lights,

intoxicating me…

as I pass by.
The table where we sat,

drunk on each others company;

your chair empty now…
Though you are there.
Surrounded by ice,

smiling back at me

from my whisky glass.
Appropriate I thought…

the ice.