Yesterday

It was the last day
yet even then it wasn’t the end –
more of a chapter’s closure,
a diminuendo.

A respectful pause in events
to observe the break in routine,
or was it part of the routine?
We’ll never know.

Today began as it does, never leads
always follows and now we know
the end was a yesterday and
there’s always tomorrow.
© 17 March 2008, I. D. Carswell

Events Remote Over An Horizon

Posted two replies, deleted both for
reasons I decline to realise – pissed
& typing wild on 1 ½ litres of fine
Colombard Chardonnay in the early
evening. Why do I feel put upon in
seeing things I know have meaning
only in an abstruse sense? Offense
is relative indeed. When you let the
wine glow with evening’s warmth
you find a firmness of thought that
supersedes abstract reasoning. I’m
pleased I found the time to steep in
an obtuse wallow of good sense; a
recompense for those times I, too,
was swallowed by events just a tad
too brutally remote over an horizon.
©19 December 2007, I. D. Carswell

Awake Again And Waiting

I think I was supposed that night to write a plot
I didn’t write when opportunity came knocking;
drowned in a younger man’s dreams – unaware
the celestial vehicle waits no more than a heart-
beat between stops, enthused by an assurance
it would not leave me despairing after answers
sought to existential connivance – where truth
matters less than substance or modes of belief.

I did not take my seat, was careless and upbeat
about the next conveyance, boasted how easily
I’d reach the destination. Thus I stayed asleep,
played somnambulant tunes to rhythms of the
spheres – believed I was within a modicum of
succeeding. Now I’m awake again, and waiting...
© 26 November 2007, I. D. Carswell