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Time, the absence of time and other abstractions


She heard the lock

turn, footsteps

in the hall; a pause,

on the floorboard

outside her door.


6 o’clock.



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,



Nothing, half-images that flit

like night wings thru air

too quick, and darkness.



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]




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

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