The Greener Grass

How do you remain so still,

So stable

While I so shake?

As your city slumbers,

I stand upon a bridge

That spans over you

And watch, silently,

The swaying waters by your banks-

Your only show of movement

And yet,

These are motions of depth,

Of power and maturity;

Not a single spray of insecurity

And, all the while,

I tremble as my feet thread over you

For fear that those memories,

So precious,

That I made in the heart of you

Have lost their shady shadows

Of mundane living that must have been

A part of us too.

Can it really have been

As perfect and sun-lit

As I remember?

Was there not a single day

That dampened the mood

Or dulled the sheen?

Your golden Louvre, glistening

In the sunset on front of us

From this square of gallant green

Normally filled with glasses of wine

And kissing lovers,

Is as connected to you today

As it was yesterday-

Just as I feel,

And yet she never left your side,

Never questioned her position

Or connection-

Not even for a moment,

Like I did.

Dare I return

To find my mark in you again?

Can it truly be as great

As the memory in my head?

Can it be as natural

As the dream that plays

While the nocturnal bird sings-

The one that wakes me in the night

And asks me where I am

And how I have managed

To let so much time

Slip in between us.

Can I ever be brave enough

To see going back

As moving forward?

Can I be as bold

At nearly 40

As I was

At only 20?


A New Year

A new year,

A new day-

Sky’s still grey.

A new year,

A new day,

Still raining-

Weather’s still the same,

No change there,

People still on the streets

With their brollies-


Plodding through puddles

And slipping in the sales-

Buying what they don’t want

In wet shoes and stockings,

And cursing what they do need-

Those festive tummies

All bigger from stout,

But its cheaper today

Than yesterday

And it makes the sky

Feel far less grey.

The fairy lights have faded

And snowy white dreams

All stored away for another year

As diets replace deserts

And multi-shakes

Become the new mulled wine.

A new year,

A new day,

But it’s still Monday

And tomorrow’s still Tuesday

And the weekend

Will follow on from the week,

Still grey, you know,

Still rain,

Still getting wet-

Still sweaty under sweaters

And scarves

And undercoats and topcoats.

A new year,

A new day,

Sky’s still grey

But under rock and stone

I can see color

Where there was none before,

Not lots of color-

Not the full spectrum on the ground

But beginnings,

Hints, possibilities-

Like those resolutions of New Year

So full of promise

In those first new days,

There is hope

Beneath all that rock and stone

And above all those clouds of grey

That will, I’ve been told, soon blow away.

A new year

A new day to live…