48

I did take the photograph
Yet already I know
The light will not be the light I saw
The dust-mites will not be picked up
As they dance in the light-beams

Neither will my yellow socks be apparent
Nor my Ralph Lauren daffodil rugby shirt
Which reflects my peace of the moment
And so, for clarity, I will write to you
Of snow on the neighbours tiled roof

Whose curved ridge is the last line
Before the shimmering blue-silver sky
I will tell you that the doves, and the crow
Enjoy your mix of bacon rind, and muesli
In the wind, and the cold, of mid-winter

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47

The afternoon is almost over
Pink light graces the sky
Settled snow, on leaves, on branches
Operatic music stills to naught
He wonders
Not what would have happened
Had he followed a grander course
Been a sharp-suited risk taker

But with ears ringing continuously
Even as quietness falls
He recognises, happily
That this is the kind of peace to care for
He was going to say; quite happily
But he stopped, thought a while
Then upgraded the rating, as though
He still worked for Standard & Poor

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46

Such a light falls on the stove
The ashes glow stronger than the embers
The flames disappear into the fiercer sun

Yet outside, the skies are pitch black
The ground is covered with snow
Seems it would be good

To roast an old chestnut
As flies of white ash pay homage
To yesterday evenings blizzard

The quiet meditation
And the harmonious chanting
Smooth a path for any further revelation

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45

It matters not that in that moment I was in that moment
All that matters now is that that moment is passed
And that that moment will never return

He talks of being rebuffed by the actress
Truth is he never really made his move
He did no more than smile at her on stage
And write a few words of introduction

It matters not that there is no future, no future moment
All that matters is that that future which we talked about
Was bypassed, in a sort of days-of-future-past moment

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44

I am on that easy street
Warm wool socks
On my fresh bathed feet

Feeling good, feeling neat
Softer rock
With a rich, irregular beat

I have this time
To sit half still
I have the dime
With desire to fill

I think on back, to that seat
No more clocks
Nor ledgers to complete

Looking out, as if on retreat
Swirling frocks
With feelings running deep

I have this line
As if by that rill
I have my mind
Where hope is distilled

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