and always you think you'd be better if you moved somewhere far away,
or if your room was prettier,
the windows bigger to let the sun in and the decor more elaborate than what you can afford,
but in you,
deep down, you know
the ceiling has cracks, holes,
and the walls are rotten and you 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤
you are the only broken thing here.

WALK THROUGH

Awake at 4 AM in a dark and silent house
There are ghosts and wraiths afoot in other rooms
And chimera dance across the walls.
Time has worn it’s foot steps into paths that lead the way
From one space where the sun shines morning rainbows
Through leaded beveled diamond glass
To rooms with shadows in the silent corners of regret
That fail to yield to hopes and promises of light.

Walls newly shorn of photographs and art
Stand in mute recrimination of the crime
That robbed them of the proof that people prospered here.
People blessed with messy lives that ricochetted like
Pinballs through the good times and disasters.
People who never learned to cheat but studied how to care,
Who gave a measure and a half for a quarter measure’s pay.
People who walked the narrow road until it ended in abyss
And now they have to find a way to to finish out life there.

The smell of tears still lingers in the lattice covered
Meditation bower in a corner of the garden
The little fountain proves unable to provide the only falling water
And the tiny pet grave markers remain resting there in peace

A bulky box with double doors commands most of the driveway
And things too valuable to leave are prisoners inside.
Clutter is trapped in cartons sealed with packing tape
Or hidden in the cupboards no one dares to open.
Untidyness moans softy in the newly emptied spaces
And the dust no longer has a place to land.

The winnowing is almost done and things will find new homes
In a sad bazaar of letting go the past
And turning to the East to meet the rising sun
Where somehow in a diferent place they all will learn to dance.
ljm

Sometimes people cry
Like when a friend moves away
I'll see you soon **Bray

We dine on Tuna & Merlot red wine
a single car's headlights shine

                                                          ­                                traveling down a road
                                                            ­                             so many stories untold
you're selling your old flat
in the Georgian house

                                                          ­                                              we all lived in
                                                              ­                 back in the colorless nineties

when the music was bad -
Westlife, Take That, Spice Girls

                                                          ­                                               & everyone
                                                        ­                             wore either black or blue
it seemed, on this Island
& your boys were still small

                                                          ­        & my family holidayed in Cornwall
                                                        ­    & I didn't yet know I could write poetry

when you move away
I shall be sorry to see you go

I need to go in a drive
A long drive
With loud music

I'm too angry
Too upset

I need to get away from you.
With your infuriating words
Your backwards logic
And your tendency
to ruin the things most important.
Because I can't do it anymore.