The day before we get the bad news
Is like any other
Drifting away from us
Like the boats that are starting
To appear on the river again.
And no matter how fast we swim
We can never catch them up
And no matter how many times the cold water
Brings us back to life
It is as if we never quite recover
From first jumping in.

Our two suitcases
Together again
Under the bed,
Mine, looking brand new
In its original cellophane
With a 'Pasures New' label
Was still a good buy.
Yours is pretty battered now,
It has seen better days
And will again.

When you climb into her bed
She turns over
Her eyes flickering open
Welcoming the intrusion.
Her lips smile as she kisses your forehead
With hands reaching out
Unthinking, unafraid
Drawing you into her sanctuary
Her private moments,
Caressing you
Holding you
Like a lover, a friend
A mother.

A group of elderly people
Have congregated in the doorway
To comb their hair and ask each other
If they had smiled at the right time.
Then they wait for their photographs
To be developed
For their passports to heaven.

All night our two proud armies
Fought for control over the city.
Occasionally we popped out our heads
And counted seconds
As if the thunder was a harmless echo
Of a battle being fought somewhere else
And the lightning only a crack in the sky
Which come morning would be miraculously healed.
And it was true, in the stillness and peace
That is born of destruction
It was easier then to find your love
Your hand sticking out of the rubble.

The sad muffled figure coming towards me
Can barely put one foot in front of the other
As if he had lived a whole life
Without ever seeing a flight of stairs.
What terrible sins had not been forgiven
That he should be affected so?
All I can do is stand and wait
Knowing he will need wings
If I am to avoid being late.
But he will never look up
Stares instead at every painful uncertain step
As if he has to count each one.
Then I see that what he has dropped
Is a gauntlet thrown down
And in his hand a walking stick
Turns into something more sinister.
On he comes, now with purpose, over the top
Past barbed wire, the earthworks
Into trenches where friends lie
Like sacks on ******* day.
And with a look I always remember
He accepts my surrender.

The apprentice has lost the master key again
And the shops will not be opening today.
In truth they couldn't anyway
Because we have bought everything,
There is no more and may never be again.
And while we fretted about the climate,
Scoured the sky for rogue meteorites
Panic buying crept up on us like a new plague.

Little wonder then we marvel at a pair of slippers
Are eternally grateful for handkerchiefs or a new shirt.
And then there's the child's wonder, the magic
Of that first remembered Christmas
When the world slipped out of orbit
And edged a fraction closer to heaven.

It is up to us tonight, we who are alone.
We are the children again, too weary to walk another step
And asking our Father to carry us a little way.
And if this is the prayer God hears
He may yet decide to give us all another year.