This is where I sat last time
I travelled these largely empty
Roads at this time with
Her smile looking across at
Me with my hair in need of
Attention and my eyes glancing at
Her who looks like someone I would
Someday love to find opposite me.

It all sounds the same as it did
Last time, only it is not
Tempered by that supernova of life
That shone on me as I headed
Sleepily for home, much as
I am doing now.

The lights are not really bright,
Because everything is artificial
And light is what makes shadows possible.
What we taste will always be
Bittersweet, no matter which
We think should be there and
Which we try to ignore...
Just like when we deny the beauty
That there always is somewhere.

The colours of this lurid landscape
Are made of many different shades,
And through vaguely opaque glass
The light divides and reaches us
In almost discrete sections
So that, if we want to, we may
See how the whole was made.

But last time the shards of light
Were outshone by a radiance
That defied division, even if
I did not want to see it
As it was meant to be.

And in my mind, what I saw
Last time I sat here outshines
The absence of life I see
Before me now.

02/03/2003

Posted on 02/05/2003
Copyright © 2025 Richard Vince