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May 2015
You are bored and tired
on a day that dazzles me.
I am distracted, impatient
on a day that calls you forth.
My achievements are old news
and you shrug.
Your achievements
are not the ones I wished for you.

The world is unfolding before you.
The blinding light you brought here
is dissipating far and wide
and I blink – was that a dream?
Did I stop it all for something?
Did everything change for something?

So the painful, slow unpicking begins.
I know it from before,
as my dad became a separate thing,
a man I like but do not need.
The years as nodding strangers
telescope ahead
as the brief, blissful bubble
of you and me as one
collapses.

Let me hold you one more time.
Let us feel each other’s heartbeat
one more time.
Let this be what we mean
when we shake hands as men,
when I pass the phone to your mother,
when you drop off the kids and go.
Let us have a speechless moment
when we remember what was,

and stake our separate claims
to the future.
Alan McClure
Written by
Alan McClure
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