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Thought I heard you 

call my name 

through the letterbox,

could have been

a neighbour’s cat though

walking the wall 

in the moonlight

under my bedroom window.

When I was expecting you

I heard such a cry,

imagined a baby lost,

abandoned in the bullrushes.

Such is the mind of the 

waiting-to-be-mother

who has waited long enough. 

When I woke and told you of 

this call in the night, you said -

could have been a memory 

a normal teenage all-nighter.

You maybe left your key at home,

and needed the comfort of

your own warm bed. 

I still sit up straight away and 

leap from my sleep, whatever

the time, alert and ready

to nurture and feed the child

that cries for me by name

in the middle of the night.