Thursday, 23 June 2016

One on The Trot (3).

other/in/out/first side (colour too/two)

As the days lengthens, so does life - alert and lively at the beginning, prone to tiredness at the close.

But what happens to dreams?

Do they thrash and struggle like fish suddenly out of water, and then slowly cease to move?

They can’t disappear though, not entirely.


She lives a long way away, he never sees her but he knows how to find her.

She will be selling fudge in the farm shop, or sitting at her kitchen table; maybe in the yard.

If he closes his eyes he can see her name.

But he can’t see her dreams any more.

It was not always this way; once they walked around the lake together, hand in hand.

The lake was frozen; their hands were warm.

Or had she been wearing gloves?

He can not be sure even of this.

This morning he stands outside, it is early and it is late autumn – the sun is bright but weak, and as he sighs his breath clouds the air.

He rubs his hands together; the warmth reminds him, makes him smile.

Then he cries.

It is always thus.

Pain and beauty; lost and found; with and without.


No comments:

Follow by Email