These days it seems
I remember my early childhood
Better than the contents of my last meal
Dementia creeps.......

Right now,
I'm remembering one early evening
With four of us small boys
Sitting on a wall
Discussing the realities of the world
As we knew it

The moon was pale but visible
And a subject for discussion
As serious as old men playing chess
We wondered how far away it could be
One lad said it was farther than London
But we knew that was obviously wrong
After all
We could see the moon
No-one had seen London

                                       By Phil Roberts

This red sanctuary of want guides me through
the sacred breeze - memories of autumn
leaves flying and kissing against trees in
the moonlight. I am backwards in motion
yet forwards with my words, so listen to
the green winter as I give you the wild
despair that is my everything.