(On the subject of travel)
On any journey worth its salt
take an invisible knapsack
fill it with the weight of places,
peoples and other nouns
This burden tugs your progress
packed in different pockets
folded emotions, pristine like maps
faces moulded like sculptures
and essences are bottled fast
West to east become east to west
as it surely will
and irksome baggage becomes chafed and worn
and tears beneath the rent of homesickness
spilling the journey stones
to leave a boy scout’s coded secret trail
to mark your pathway home
© Graham Sherwood 09/2013
Monday, September 23, 2013
Thursday, September 05, 2013
Ebb and Flow
What do you intend to do?
The enquiry delivered like a helpful slap
is designed to bring me to my senses,
your hand left hanging there
in case more medicine is required.
The bow wave of your breath
like a crashing surf, roars
and then is numbed silence,
I count to seven awaiting the next explosion.
Will you be alright?
More gentler, calmer water now, damaged,
your voice a useless bloodstained sling
offering support but delivering none,
my purposeful stride self-moderates
into a funereal step, pause, step.
Do I go or do I stay?
© Graham Sherwood 09/2013
The enquiry delivered like a helpful slap
is designed to bring me to my senses,
your hand left hanging there
in case more medicine is required.
The bow wave of your breath
like a crashing surf, roars
and then is numbed silence,
I count to seven awaiting the next explosion.
Will you be alright?
More gentler, calmer water now, damaged,
your voice a useless bloodstained sling
offering support but delivering none,
my purposeful stride self-moderates
into a funereal step, pause, step.
Do I go or do I stay?
© Graham Sherwood 09/2013
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