All Of This; And Then Some

All of this

I rather feel

That you would welcome

All of course

Except the tear

In the silver lining

All of which

I do suppose

Approaches melancholy

All of course

Except the tear

To smudge the make up

All of what

Did I hear you say

Seeking exposure

All of course

Except the cobwebs

Leading to the dust

Present; Correct

The light is good

The breeze is strong

The tiredness

Throughout the body

Is replicated by the dryness

Of the blossom-tree leaves

The afternoon is mine

It wasn’t always going to be so

What is yours is or isn’t yours

I have no way of knowing

The place, this place

The new desk

Beside the banister

With Batik

An upstairs window

Which looks out

Over trees, over rooftops

Over half-way horizons

The time is good

The mind is strong

The awareness

Throughout the body

Is contrasted

By the endless line of slights in the sky

Extrapolation

From one book come many books

From one line come many lines

From one creaking floorboard

Come stories of many floorboards

Winds, rains, subsidence

Glory-boards of many stories

Dust, cobwebs, loss, passing

Stories skating over many glory-boards

Pull in the seat

Pull the seat in closer

Become nearer to the stories

Come, give lift off to your own glory

From that new house, almost completed

To that old house, in need of renovation

From that house of your friend

Or the relative who went to America

With the rubble, with the toil

With the stubble; who is to be the foil

I tell you my story, you tell me yours

We listen, with mindful listening

I do not tread on your story

You do not tread on mine

We nail down each other’s stories

Before we move on, to the disturbance of critique

Reflect On This

One last page

Only one

For closure

For closing

For bringing to an end

Yet it isn’t an au revoir

Nor a final goodbye

You see, it is a see you later

Not

I won’t ever see you again

There will be other pages

Many more than one

For being

For seeing

For continuing from the beginning

Yet it is unrequited

Not two-way flowing

Yes, it is, so please don’t bother

Not

That you will, even if I were to ask

Draw Lines

That I love you

Is that I loved you

That I loved you is evidently true

That in creation

We created

That in future we never created again

Here I am

Alone not lonely

Here in a place of forever good fortune

Many leaves

Turn through their colours

It is a season, there along with the others

That I remember

Meeting

Then persuading, yes that I remember

Yes

I am reminded

By another existential mirage