Thursday, 31 July 2008


Let it go, he said. and I did. I released my grip, it caught the wind and went.
We watched it together, he held my hand, a bulb of green, flailing white streamer, a sea of blue.
Wish it good luck he said. And I did. Better to let it go than let it die.

Stumbling home her arm in mine. Maybe her place tonight, don’t let this night fade out. I play the gentleman, of course I’ll walk you home. Lean on the frame of her doorway, just another drink. Tip-toe inside, fear no evil.

He hates seeing them go down, she said. Dishes washed, put in their place. Think he wishes he could hold on and go with it, she said. Her back turned. What do you mean? A smile, sad and brief. One day you’ll understand.

And when I leave early, the morning grey as my eyes, I know why he worked late.

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