On The Border

After a pause due to computer woes, I return to the airwaves with this offering. Its predominant theme appears to be the fear of change which, for me at least, is pervasive.

 

On The Border

The sky's dissolved in enveloping greys,

close as blankets, cold like hotel sheets;

looking over your shoulder as dawn raises day -

you test the gloaming's disdain for lamp-lit streets.

 

The mists of summer mornings, strange ...

for the time of year … or the borderland;

the Sun, that thief of peace, dares succour a footling change -

from fey imagination to those who say “I understand”.

 

Run then, run like the Devil before a smouldering Cross,

so that no-one and nothing can steal your silence -

this passport to foreign climes beyond the fosse.

Leaping waters like a vaulting deer, bereft of guidance,

 

you make landfall in the brilliant light of freedom; no cloud

to darken the way, threaten billowed storms.

Look yonder, a house sits pretty as the swift sings proud

upon its tiles. The old world grows cold, as the new one warms.

 

Chris Hubbard

Perth

2018

billowedborderlandenvelopingfeyfootlingfosseguidancelamp-litnewoldsilencesmoulderingswifttiles

◄ Buried in the Sunlight

Give it Sweetness ►

Comments

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Chris Hubbard

Sat 24th Feb 2018 00:33

As well as can be expected, Colin, since I had to get my geek of a brother to revive its ancient predecessor, put aside for just this possibility!

I am a digital idiot I'm afraid ...

<Deleted User> (13762)

Fri 23rd Feb 2018 08:56

welcome back Chris - a fine poem to return with. Hope the PC is happy now? Considering we rely so heavily on our technology these days it's a shame they can't make the stuff more reliable. But then again they want us to keep buying and upgrading and...

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