Ten Minutes

In the next ten minutes I have to go,
and you can’t let me just walk
out of your life again.

Can’t let you! Can’t stop you, I said,
and I won’t try, won’t try.
How can I? What should I do?
Follow you from place to place?
Sit outside your house and chance
being turned away, by someone?
I don’t know where it is, in any case
and I don’t want to know.

So what’s it to be? A thread?
An occasional e mail to keep in touch?
I don’t think so!
Our lives are so distant in every way,
how to join them up?

The trick would be to store the memories
and leave behind the sense of loss.
Ditch the sadness.
But we’ve tried before. And failed.
And we’re running out of years.
If we meet a next time,
the chances are
we’ll be to old to care.

We need to achieve a modus vivendi,
that will at least allow
our lives to touch each other.
Nothing less?

And, in the next ten minutes!
I said.



Spillwords.com presents: Ten Minutes, poetry by Lynn White, who lives in North Wales. Her writing is influenced by issues of social ...


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