Friday, 11 November 2016

In The Middle Of The Night

Grey steeds rage across the plains
Pickpockets of our disappointments
Railings, yew trees and headstones
Invite the pigeon noises to join me

That I would remember your body
Held tightly, carefully in my arms
That I would welcome the insecurity
Walk together, walking up to the tarn

The deserted dust of all our yesterdays
Pains of past and previous associations
Failings, times to displease, left alone
To invite the selfish poise to become

I sit here again as I have sat here before
It is one of my workday lunch retreats
Escaping as evermore, yet still unable
To be dark, or light, or anywhere at all

As if already I am forgetting, a few hours
Ago we held on to each other, possessing
Thus the ability, to shut out the doubts
Stronger together, stronger than one

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