06 November 2013

Losing The Place


An old friend leaves and huge sheaves of 
past move back in time; nostalgia aside it 
is immense relief, space again and peace 
of mind from events half remembered like 
a reprieve in face of accusation’s hammer, 
debate never forgotten, allegation-preyed  
wounds spent raw by yesterday’s eternity, 
and there’s little sanctuary left to ease  

Yet we breathed the same fire again! That 
blesses us, as ever did comrades-in-arms 
and intent, war-worn but brave soldiers of 
the same fate; sure - disagreed on details 
here and there - wouldn’t be who we were 
if it didn’t - but I won’t live in that past 

So he is nostalgia’s ledge for dry wisdom 
denied - free to find comfort of a few older 
guys who’ve found their ways - yes, we’re 
mates, always will be; guess he’s relieved 
to argue with me still without prejudice, or 
is it me who’s losing the place... 

© 17 October 2013, I. D. Carswell