I’m drinking from your cup.
Solid, without handles, I feel the coffee’s heat,
And I feel it flow though me — like you sat and absorbed the sun?
The cup is speckled like the earth —
No fancy glaze — to remind us that we are nature foremost.
I will sit and think of you working at your wheel.

—————-

I came across Paul Muldoon’s selected poems;

‘ the most significant English-language poet since the war’ the cover said.

You knew him of course, filled, as you were, to the brim, with things poetical,

And the way that words can dig into the everyday / history or heart and turn up a truth that makes you go: I knew that! But I didn’t know I did.

Your poems did that too.