I write quite a lot about death, and poems for people who have died, and this is a poem for a friend of mine called Meg Sheffield who died in 1997. She was very adventurous - she always made me feel like a total wimp - and a lot of the things she did would have involved possibly falling off things like horses or skis or out of boats or whatever. So that comes into the poem. Rather ironically, I suppose, her death involved being knocked off something - being knocked off her bicycle by a fifteen-year-old lad who had stolen his mother's car and he came up behind her and killed her not-quite-instantly enough - she was in a coma for five days. It's just called 'For Meg'.