Anniversary

 

     My night was fitful,

The sofa lumpy, warped and uncomfortable –

Old like I,

     Fifty years ago this day

I was born unto this world

Without a choice but to live

The rules set before I arrived,

     And I am no better off this day,

Than April Sixth Nineteen Sixty-Seven.

 

     The morning peers between the

Gap the tired curtains have to offer,

I tip toe silently out of the house,

Gain a pace upon the canal

My children often walk,

     But there are no ducks

No squawks or tweets from

Tree top birds,

Just silence and my

Footfalls on the gravel.

 

     The night has offered no

Retreat I muse,

Nightmares of A Persian Gulf

Triggered by the footage of

Sarin Casualties in Syria,

     And I still remember the child

Of Kurdistan who could not scream –

A babe I at first mistook for a doll,

     (I let the memory drift back to silent quarters).

 

     I gather senses and realize

The canal has led me to the station,

Time neither experienced

Or registering complaint,

     So I stand upon the platform

Shifting upon my sore feet,

     There are no clouds to read,

And the air is still, no breeze

No wind and no shrill tones

Of birds,

     Where have the lore upon this day

Retreated, where have they gone?

The company I have kept so dear

No longer near.

 

     A train within the distance is heard,

And I watch as it pulls slowly to the

Platform edge, the windows gleaming

And I cannot see the driver,

I step aboard as the doors open,

Inviting me to take my place

Amongst a madding crowd

Heading for the city to justify

And make a daily living,

     But there are no ‘other’

Journeymen upon the train,

Just I, just this one passenger

Still courting what it’s like to die,

 

     The train pulls away,

My head upon the window pane

As this country, any country flies

Like flicker film upon the eye,

     And greens and browns

Of the countryside, an occasional

Building, an occasional body

Of sea shares this fractured mind,

 

     I do not care

Just where I am heading,

I do not dare I ask

The conductor for a destination,

For he is not there and gone

Like birds and animals and trees

And fields, rivers lakes and oceans,

     I have no ticket to declare,

Just a realization,

This Earth with all her majesty;

Needs a friend within The Universe.

 

Michael J Waite. 6^th April 2017.