Just one backward glance
Then you were gone;
The dissonance of city traffic
Distorting the sound of your footsteps;
The edge of your long white scarf
Lifted deftly upon the wind
As you turned the corner.
The shadows have now become
more sharply defined
than just one hour ago.
The distant moon, strangely translucent,
Shines through the mottled cloud
Like an electric light through muslin.
For a moment I clearly recall
The smile of my long dead mother
As she watched two restive children
playing together. I thought I could snatch the moon
If I climbed up onto her shoulder.
When memories fail the world turns bitter
Like a dark night with no bright star;
Flowers that have lost their colour;
Windfalls that rot when handled.
The electric moon continues to silver the rooftops
with a cruel and eerie brilliance
that dazzles my half closed eyes.-
London seems empty without you.
Send me word from your distant homeland
The moment that you are free to do so.
I am already missing your soft voice;
Your pale face creasing with laughter.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
29th. - 30th. December 2013.
2nd. - 31st. January 2014.
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