Solitary
Late night talk radio
Blows across empty car parks
Music bounces off frosted windows
A voice tunnels through dark alleys.
What if nobody is listening?
Tradition
I stand on ice
How thick I do not know
Embedded in tradition
Solid and cold
Feet thick or inches
Does it matter if I do not know?
First steps
First class
Standing against the back fence
Covered in Lorraine Lee rose
One foot thrust forward ready to meet the world
And you my brother about to leave me
To my own resources
At the age of five
Past Goodbyes
An express train
Blurs through an empty station
Scatters memories of stale goodbyes
Some drift to earth
But most float away
Forever forgotten.
Time
Morning knocks on my door politely
Two Mormons in dark shiny suits.
Midday is a rude foot in the door
And night like an argument,
Sudden,
Bitter,
And unexpected.
