Opposites

Held up by a red light;

Frustrated and at end-tether point

He fidgets, restless,

Tense hands full of tomorrow carpet,

Head packed with plans and deadlines.

On the other side of

The fat-tar, busy river

She lingers, placid,

Unhurried by clocks;

Head in a good space

Ears hanging on to

The dizzying music of stars.

He chooses not

To see her,

She doesn’t even

Realise he’s there.

Red, Of Course.

Three full-on winter days

On the cold-wind, monotony yard

Feeding cold blue flames

With colder fuels.

Need to check out

My situation,

My options …

Heading down the grey brick road

Heading to red sunset salvation dreams:

A place in the lottery queue;

Chance to compare journeys, calendars, champions, clocks;

Chance to find pattern and rhyme in random lines and concrete blocks.

Breathe shiver-deep, consider the numbers and companions that

Got us here, the histories that come together now –

In these magical moments …

Sometimes in order to see ahead more clearly

We have to look, hard and long over shoulders:

Chance of a ticket to be there

When we get to face the glory trials,

Stand on the way that other followers have stood

Ready to paint the next steps: red of course!

The Ticking of Other Clocks

 

What ghosts will sit

These patient seats,

Drift along aisles, up stairways,

Gasp and wave,

Believe and tremble

When these crowds –

Distracted by the

Ticking of other clocks – Move on?

Tickets, Clocks and …

Shades of

Four-in-the-morning

Friendship roads;

Sagas and riverbank coffees,

The long warm shadows of wings;

With tickets, clocks, cherrywood smoke,

A softly-strummed guitar

And new plum wine.

Nothing wrong with visiting the past,

Living in the moment:

But Tomorrow

Will be calling –

Sooner than you think –

So be sure you have

The proper words.

9/8/2013