Interlude for a friend

Modeled upon Amy Lowell’s ‘Interlude’

When I have dog-eared my notes,

and streaked them with neon;

When I have punctured their bruised margins,

and stacked blue file against blue file;

When I have packed  them into musky cupboards

like the day’s memories –

What then?

To-morrow it will be the same:

Notes and highlighting

Memory upon memory

If the sun is beautiful filtered through clouds of stress

How much more beautiful is tomorrow’s sun,

Slanting through the dusty cream-coloured blinds

The sun,

Glimpsing a young friend’s back;

The sun,

Still,

Upon his face.

You shine, Blessed,

You and the sun.

The clock ticks away.

I think, when the traffic lights have blinked,

Only directions will change on clichéd

Crossroads.

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