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.