Monday 23 December 2013

382

382

I worked an early shift on the last day
That year, and in the afternoon went back
To drop the keys and to collect my stuff.
It was four o'clock and dark already.

A wind was blowing down out of the woods,
The trees at back leant over the houses.
Sparks from a chimney wobbled up into
The bare branches, and the wind put them out.

She stood silently in the kitchen as
I went from room to room and picked things up,
And when I left, kissed my cheek and did not
Look at me for more than a brief moment.

I ate breakfast food in a service station,
Watching families eating breakfast food,
Listening to the lull of voices. There
Was a choir singing at the front :

The automatic doors opened and shut,
And the singing floated in snatches through,
And when the doors were closed persisted as
A gentle movement at the outer ear.

As I drove I saw a car broken down
At the hard shoulder, and a pale face
Over the hood, and another standing
Smoking a cigarette in the headlights.

My parents were asleep when I arrived,
And I soon went to bed. I dreamt I was
In the tropics, and that light was rippling
Over the hull of my boat. There was music

Playing down the shore, and the sand was hot.
An old woman sat before her cabana
Had a magnolia bloom in her lap,
And held a glass of water up to me,

And called to me, smiling, and the sunlight
Came through the glass. I turned back to the sea.
My father woke me, shaking my shoulder,
Whispering, telling me Merry Christmas.

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