1
She heard the lock
turn, footsteps
in the hall; a pause,
on the floorboard
outside her door.
6 o’clock.
2.
The clock stopped and
who knows what time it was?
He heard the intermittent twitter
in the trees, the rush of wheels
on the cool tarmac; eyes fixed
on the one spot upon
the brick wall. I thought of,
what?
Nothing, half-images that flit
like night wings thru air
too quick, and darkness.
3.
And the sun rose
and rubbed her windows;
the sky, sprung-clean.
Even the flies, she feels,
bless the air. There,
I’m 16 again
cruising the centuries
in spring, the cemetery
path. I strode miles
over the stone and
bone, an eye on death,
but blithe, blowing my
long smoke to the sky
high, thinking, what?
Right now…right now…
[I wanted to seize time,
my happiness]
4.
I’m happy now to glide
beneath the pale blue eyes
of evening; her skies
of mottled whites and lights.
I walk from the light.
What joy?
To find you here.
24-25 September 2015
Thanks very much Philomena and John. I had tried to reply earlier, but had trouble again. I appreciate your feedback
A New Year tonic if ever there were one. Bravo.
I love this poem, though I may be posting comment in the wrong place,the sun- your words shine like it
It did, it did, instantaneous (almost)
hooray! It worked
thank you Peter!
Simply stellar, amico, ‘the pale blue eyes / of evening’, the pespectives, the thinking pauses…Beliissimo!