To Think Copyright 2009 Rob Lock

You might be twenty minutes pregnant now.
These floating moments after morning love
when we lie back in easy silence, grow
into ourselves again, start talking of
the futures we once dreamed before we met –
interpreter, a weather girl on TV -
and then the paper comes and we play-fight
to get the section with reviews, the tea
and toast delivered by the one who's lost;
when deadlines, customers and pupils seem
insubstantial, lacking power to ghost
our Sunday, don’t-disturb-us-now routine -
all this may come to be a thing looked back
upon with fond regret. With any luck.