Where next is the question
Back to base perhaps
To leave other places
Such as the cutlery factory
Until tomorrow
Or the day after
Bathe in the reflections
Of this morning
Along minor roads
Which you sort of know
Even if you are uncertain
As to where they are going
Sunlight streams
Through leafy trees
Bringing a sparkle
To the beginning of the day
This community would suit you
You could feel at home
In this location of friends
Who sadly are in decline
Might you breathe new life
But first to become a Quaker
How does that work
What are the entry conditions
It would be good for you
To shape it in your own style
In such a way in which
You haven’t been able to before
The eyes of sadness
The finger tapping of dismay
He takes off his dark glasses
To feel the light of the world
I don’t have anyone
To hide you from anymore
I don’t even have to hide you
From myself anymore
He took off quickly
Climbed even quicker
Until he settled
Then leaned slowly
Into a wide circle
As was his routine
I had asked before
What was that noise
In front of the house
Above the house
Behind the house
Within the house
I was not reassured
No matter
What others felt
About her well-managed
Lack of
An appropriate response
Of course she heard me
Those shuttered eyelids
Told their own story
Of a saleswoman
Or fighter pilot
On estate duty
