Coming In From The Cold Poem by Dónall Dempsey

Searching in a second-hand shop
among the bric-a-brac

I found you
in a white Mac.

I in a white Mac too
as if we were both
spies

& had arranged to meet

here
to hand over

secret dossiers
or such like.

I kissed
the top of your head

as I always do
‘cos that’s how far you
come up to!

“The secret word
is Love! ”

I whisper
into your hair.

“Love! ”
you echo

as if it actually were

a prearranged
signal

although only chance
had brought us here

us two
secret

agents

in the espionage
of Love.