Monday, 23 July 2012


The lock goes through the metal loop from the right,
not the left as you do it - though I know it locks in
both positions - and whilst this isn’t the only difference
that does not matter, there is more than metaphor in this
varying way we secure what is behind those doors.
It is the same with our eating diverse meals at our
differing times, or how each night as you go to sleep
I go to bed on the following day. And though we rise
at similar moments, it will be like this for the rest our
life, each of us heading for the equivalent place by
alternative routes.
                               So when I returned from being away
it seemed so much had been rearranged;
and whilst mere things remain as if the same
there is a sense that more has been forever changed.

1 comment:

  1. Poignant and touching.Your poetry has such emotional resonance-whether real or fictional.