I Slept with Raymond Chandler
He was terse to the point
of silence. No snoring.
No tussles over the duvet.
He didn’t kick or lash out.
Like a couple of babes,
we slept and I dreamt
of a hat, a coat and a gun.
When I came to, Ray
was flat out on the pillow,
the bookmark in place.
Joan Byrne has read her poems at The Poetry Café, Peckham Literary Festival and other venues. Published in small poetry press. Member of Southwark Stanza. Her photos and words appear at www.joanbyrne.co.uk and a book she has published at www.blurb.co.uk