Towers
I blame Australia for bagging you.
What is bigger than friends, tell me,
A continent; a beach house flat –
Room enough for a pony?
Even the beautiful pond house
Couldn’t keep you.
Although big enough to carry off
A leaving, a parting gift –
Parted us like oceans;
Crushed infinite embraces.
How absurd then, growing up beside you,
Our arms ache for holding too long.
A simple slip off the back of your shoulders,
We fall to ruins.
And kingdoms collapse in the last look,
The sight of you in the rear view mirror
Fills up with shops closing down;
Dead cities creep in.
Dithering down the A road, coughing
Our way back to Millard,
We knew we would see you again,
But not to recognize this time.
Better to keep the last thirty odd years
Locked up in some identity parade;
The three of us, standing there;
Knowing you had got away with murder.
Copyright © Louis Payne | Year Posted 2011
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