25 May 2009



Could I ever settle it I
wouldn’t want to try; call
it self-justification, maybe,
imply it suits neatly as
the refugee effects to
a defunct way of life

I am no victim clinging

there wasn’t a conspiracy or
even rights denied, merely
stale dreams marooned in
an antipathy of indolence;
we couldn’t find a way
to reconcile the fading

no-one has to wear the blame

if going saved your sanity it
showed me where desires are
weighed in ashes of a funeral
pyre – cold & clayed and blown
away eternally, tho’ yours
abjure in writhing flame

© 6 March 2009, I. D. Carswell