Disembarkation, 2:42am

 

 

I’d driven to your mind, parked up and paid the fare,

Or ‘the price’, perhaps.

When I stepped out eagerly, worriedly,

I searched for your happiness, inspecting dark crevices.

 

That’s usually where your happiness lurked,

Like a recidivist in an alley, awaiting another victim.

Happiness like a leap year, a comet, a UFO sighting;

Happiness a tease, a flirt, a hand proffering an apple.

 

Happiness suggesting hope.

 

I’d searched in rain (of course), your company a bluster,

A recurring gust.

What the wind whispered to me I ignored,

Against my better judgement.

 

I’d parked there before, I knew the terrain

Like a cat knows its way home.

Only I’d returned with a freshly lit torch,

Which doesn’t change the scenery.

 

Light suggesting hope.

 

What I found warranted no reportage,

No sensationalist headline.

What was there was there before,

As cliffs appear to remain the same within the human cycle.

 

A new beginning suggests hope,

But I’m too experienced for such a word.

 

 

Image by by Dominik Lange.

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