I cannot let the moment pass without a weary greeting, or
retard the recent past where shadows still are fleeting, I’d
sabotage the future by just staring in a mirror and never let
the glimmer pass and try to hold my image fast in healing
Time is gliding in array, I sense it move in subtle ways, tells
me I am locked in stride and shocked and numb and riven
dumb inside the house I used to try with no success to
eulogise – and frankly I am not surprised.
I’ve cast the best of words into the endless thankless void
and listened long and patiently to hear what might be heard,
and garnered dust and loneliness in chilling, cogent quiet, a
quiet in crystal purest form, chaste and potent curling worm
that nestles in my heart.
I must have died and blown away, my hopes are dust in
disarray, of dreamlike clouds, of coloured sands that waft
and spin in thinning strands and wallow in a foetid band
to spread across this lonely land.
Where are the people we once knew who talked with us
as one, where are their children growing up and playing in
the sun, where are words we sanely shared of passive unity?
Have they all died and blown away and disappeared like me?
© I.D. Carswell