ORIGINAL THOUGHTS
Charles W. Lockyer
Copyright 2011 Charles W. Lockyer
Published at Smashwords
I
Entering the old shed, I disturbed the
Pigeons, sent them to flight
In fear. Mapped out above me, the light
Poked through the tin, tell-tale signs
Of re-use. Crossing the floor I stamped out
Bird prints from years ago, without
A thought to how they had faired.
II
He walks slowly, now with a limp,
Desperately trying to outrun a fate
Which catches us all in the end.
She stands stoutly, slashing the air
With an outstretched finger, years after
She tried vainly to coax that fate home.
I can only lie here, warm sun,
Fresh breeze, cool grass, amazed at my own
Unwilling incomprehension.
III
Beneath that cross my ghosts came to haunt me,
Not because of the dark, but why that room was dark.
It had almost burnt down once,
Before we were around to avoid it.
We weren’t religious or superstitious,
But beneath that known symbol we were safe.
Only sitting together in light of day,
At night I still sleep turned away from that door.
IV
And if I were to bring the stars from the heavens,
Set them in ice and float them out into waters
Of the deepest blue, I would still be no closer
Than if I had done nothing.
So now I resign myself to drowning in those eyes,
As they look at me, not lovingly,
But with that type of misunderstanding
Only she can deliver. My anecdote on love.
V