I expected
in my youth
a natural ending.
You railed against presumption.
Never!
Always!
Hyperbole spun us out,
Now our orbits can’t intersect.
I was okay with that,
until I wasn’t.
We’re not supposed to break promises,
even irrelevant ones.
Curse nostalgia.
Blue sky
Slight breeze
Rocking of the lounge
Toss the dog’s ball
Feel summer approach.
Thunder in the south
Booming concussion shakes the land
Storm brewing
Run or
Hold fast?
(for Nikki)
.
I see joy.
See how you have expanded
until you’re exploding with all
that you’d held tightly
contained, buttoned up?
I see confidence.
See how what was timid
and tentative
now twinkles with the knowing
that you are amazing?
I am so proud
of who you’ve made,
you.
When was the moment
that ‘we’ broke apart?
Or did it just wear away?
All those things in common,
yet nothing holds together.
I rocked you in my arms
dreamed of all you’d be.
Never did I imagine you’d be
without me.
Why did you turn away?
We gave you space to grow
and now we don’t know
if loneliness is the price we pay,
when children make their way,
break their way,
wear away.
It couldn’t quite be
as obvious as that?
Roped mysteries
hauled to lucidity,
tugged into reality.
Something is vaguely changed.
Weary watching,
sidelong looks,
what happens next?
For eighteen years,
each evening when I glance out my kitchen window,
I see my elderly neighbour
at work through his window.
Suddenly, this week,
his drapes are drawn.
What nefariousness is this?
What hidden adventures is this World War 2 spy
up to now, that require such secrecy?
The neighbourhood has become far
more interesting with this mystery.
The day after
the wishes flow,
the possibilities drain away.
Futility crushes the mutibility of dreams,
but tomorrow is another day.
