poem – Page 8

Different Places

She. A concept.
She stands over yonder. So far away.

I. A mystery.
I sit waiting by sparrows. So close.

We. Our reality.
We stand and sit in different places.

crystal clear water
They long to see Lake Baikal
vast in her beauty
The goal was to hear the ice
and to feel and to hear peace

emotional clouds
heavy with the grey of now
hiding the sunset
issues faced on Sunday night
The dread falls within the rain

heavy falling snow
serious solemn faces
outside the old church
gentle, pushed into the hearse
transported to rest awhile

the falling droplets
they increase in their number
the windscreen a blur
neoclassical engine
sounds of heartbreak and the sea

I look at you
sometimes when you don’t notice

I stare at you
Rarely, when you are oblivious to my presence

I wonder if we, the two of us, would have spoken
if you were

famous when we met over 24 years ago

The falling Spring rain
comes with the sound of thunder
to stop and ponder
to have an education
to see our nation changing

Fatigue has found me
Through my resting elbow and
my head on my hand

Driving along the winding M1
hoping my car will take me home.

Around the bend, the pink lady shines;
a luminous ball rising in the late sky.

The clear pastel sunset and the lady,
constantly moving in and out of view.

They guide me back to the ones I love,
from a world full of money and ladders.

A letter entered the letterbox.
A crisp envelope of ivory with
Parchment-thick paper dated today.

Good news, Kerree, your time has now come.
Afraid, I turn the letter over to see
the title, ‘Making death easier’.

Gathering thoughts seems to surround me.
Further down, the words read, ‘Activate Today’
with several graphic diagrams.

A knock at the door scares the old cats.

The man says, ‘Hello, there has been a
clerical error. Your death isn’t required.’
I return the letter steadily.