November 11th (Poetry)
11th November 2011
Today’s her birthday
and I wonder if he’s talking to her —
moving through those rooms
the season inviting itself in and breathing chill
in all the shadowed corners.
Rememberance hangs affection’s wreath
around the framed photographs
loss the ribbon’s bow that ties each life —
one to all the millions named and unnamed
gathered for the year’s ceremony.
Her grave’s a mile away
yet she’s imagined tutting at the dust
and maybe counting all the thoughts of her
that float her way — the waves of memory
find her where she always was — at home
like nothing’s changed.
and I wonder if he’s talking to her —
moving through those rooms
the season inviting itself in and breathing chill
in all the shadowed corners.
Rememberance hangs affection’s wreath
around the framed photographs
loss the ribbon’s bow that ties each life —
one to all the millions named and unnamed
gathered for the year’s ceremony.
Her grave’s a mile away
yet she’s imagined tutting at the dust
and maybe counting all the thoughts of her
that float her way — the waves of memory
find her where she always was — at home
like nothing’s changed.