Slight Return

 

Slight Return

 

 

And why are you the one to suffer?

Do they call you a man,

then be woman enough to leave her

if just for a short while?

In yearning children lies a choice,

for see how she misses my voice,

she nightly fingers memories moist,

charting mazes where it all started,

strokes our likeness, hopeful hearted,

quick snapped just before we parted,

and weeps, only for a short while.

 

Back tracked overland, where

I ticked off oceans across stormy sky,

came hard about. Seamen tangled her hair,

sucking at salt that was lately there

in sticky ropey coils lain on her deck.

Jack Tar inspecting high crow’s nest,

she closed her eyes, to test and test,

and scarce can draw another breath

upon his return, she will be blessed,

and only in a short while.

 

You, with your brass wedding band,

your left hand down a bit driving ban,

your woolly blanket communications ban,

your banish everything you can ban,

your cancel you cancel me culture,

your pleased to say hello to my vulture,

who tears and tears daily at your flesh,

until still later, after all these years,

where the only dying done is death:

but just for a short while.

 

We’re both of us getting distant older,

look over shoulders at horizons colder,

but, then again, to few to mention,

passing each other to melt the tension,

without flicking your lids just once.

What’s that kicking at your can,

recalls in you that you had a plan?

Dust that's brushed beyond the pan,

flecks you of what you once believed,

that it’s not enough to talk of grief,

so feel it for a short while.

 

And why am I the one to return?

Do they call me a man,

with woman enough to need her:

if just for a short while?

Do I seek and tell you what I learned

or stand upon Cornish cliffs and burn

like Angel? To play you like this guitar,

pick ancient tunes that speak our scars,

scream we must be free or not to be,

gales disperse my words indifferently,

and the only one standing here is me,

perhaps just for a short while.