searching for meaning?
have you ever climbed a tree?
it’s never too late
addendum (fear not – it need only be a very small tree, the view from the top will be great!)
( an observation of my contemporaries, now I hate catching myself whistling)
Once the essence of romance,
now reduced to shadowing his wife
around charity shops and supermarkets,
his drawn cheeks constantly puckered with
that revolting suck, blow, tuneless
whistling that declares a man has entered his dotage,
devoid of the hope of passion
and surrendered to banality.
‘How does he love me?
With adoration, with fertile tears,
With groans that thunder love,
with sighs of fire.’
On finding a neglected memorial to a forgotten war …
The bugle’s long faded call took with it all promise of eternal memory.
Names carved in stone often lasted not much longer than the generation
that composed them, causes became historical and worse, academic,
families adopted new priorities and the dead faded into unrecognised
faces staring from indistinct sepia cards.
Perhaps it was for the best: the solutions to conflicts were invariably the
result of pragmatism and essentially found in the present with an eye to
The fallen remained beyond all wanting; such is the nature of lives and