All entries for Tuesday 25 April 2006
April 25, 2006
I'm back at home now. You've heard a bit about it –
I'm with two good friends, examining the light.
It's late but light diffuses from the clouds
filling up the empty field below and beyond us –
and further out, Basingstoke shimmering under smog.
No camera would record the light, at least not as we see it:
the blank air, the blossom petals, the closeness.
Moments like these exist – and you know as much, you said so –
in a brief, frail instant, before dying
on the wave. We cannot save them. We can only
recognise their life and mourn their passing.
You absence, though, is so particular
that it frees up the sky and lets me spin there,
rapt in intellect, in my own solitude.
The stars fold themselves into petals the colour of skin
with all the symmetry of your personality;
the balance of mystery and familiarity;
the phrases that your movements suggest.
I hope to walk with you like this when we meet again
and in the shrinking light, to offer you these moments of feeling,
boldly plucking the words like the loose heads of flowers.
But I'm reduced to imprecision, to things that will fit in an envelope.
I want you like these shimmering lights, cloudless, clear and close.