Friday, 3 July 2020

After The End

The sideboard was full of magazines.
Not whole magazines but
pages torn from them.
Pages of recipes.
Meals never eaten.
Exotic desserts never attempted.
Guests never invited or entertained.
At least the furniture had been used,
had had many years of use.
The clothes had been worn,
the pictures admired and enjoyed.
But the recipes were the saddest thing.
So many of them
for so many people
who never came.

Thursday, 2 July 2020

Half Light

The taxi's waiting
and it's getting light,
the half light
of day break.
And I'm ready
for the journey
into the brightness,
optimistic that
the daylight is coming.
Optimistic
that the taxi will take me
to a place where everyone
is in their place.
It’s a picnic.
A cloth spread out under a tree.
That's where we're going.
That's where we'll be.
A picnic in the sunshine
with sunny, smiling people.
But I have to stay awake
or I may not
get there.
Have to keep
my eyes open
to let in the light.
Stay awake
to open the door.
Get into the taxi
while it's still light
and hold the door open
for the rest to follow.
in the half light...
Is that the light leaving us.
Maybe it's the night
closing in on us,
the half light of evening.
Not the dawn,
but the dusk
enclosing me.
I am afraid.
I am afraid that
the taxi will leave
me behind
to a dark awakening
from the half light.
And when I wake
will it be light?
Bright
like the dream of a day,
or dark,
a dark nightmare.
Not a picnic.

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Thursday, 25 June 2020

Cover The Mirrors

All the mirrors were covered
every night
in my grandmother’s house
draped with coloured cloths
like the budgie’s cage.
She was worried
that a soul might wander
and be sucked into the reflective glass
and she thought
the souls of dreamers were very vulnerable.
I thought that the budgie must be covered
because at night
even with the door closed,
his soul might fly the cage
and
disappear into the mirror.
Sometimes she forgot to cover the cage,
though never the mirrors
and then
I would examine the mirrors carefully
to check that it was me in there
and not his feathered soul.
Then
I would check his cage to make sure
that he was still inside
with his soul intact
She told me not to worry
that his cage was only covered
to make it dark
so he would sleep.
But I didn’t believe her.
It made no sense
if it was dark anyway.
So I always checked
the mirrors.

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