Winning

No service, no notifications,
which is great
as the world doesn't want me
and that's OK
I don't want it.

The day is mobile, strong, the
sun hot on my neck, the
wind up, pushing and sighing
the trees and making my
parasol creak like a sail.

I saw my Mum's best friend
yesterday, she is 92 and
still here, walking with a
pair of bronze sticks.  How
lucky her daughters; how The
Fates wove their tapestry to ensure
mine died long ago, my father
too.

I am rage at how unequal
it all is - but one can't
stop the planets turning or
the Universe expanding, I can
only stand and stare
at the horror of the world
we have made
and bear
the heart's void, the calling
voices in the mind, all
the might-have-beens if
I had been luckier
and more sane.  If I could

kill, maim, blame, lie
like the rest of them, climb
on people's backs to the
pyramid top, had such ego
inside me I were like an
inflated balloon drifting up
towards the stretching blue
with ease.

Alas, that is not me - I have
no tools to exist unscathed
in a world of wolves.  I merely

breathe, keep breathing, keep
walking, keep trying, hoping
for no more pain, for a 
bit of sun, for
a day in my garden where
I feel like, for once,
I might have won.

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