13 January 2011


here is the receipt for it
all, the paying out, the
words spoken, the words written,
the stamps licked, the books
bought (and read), the men loved (and
lost, too) the hundred thousand
tiny remembrances written down in
desk diaries: today I did, today I
went, the shoes for a
wedding, christening, burial (check
their heels for signs of wear) the
receipt for all consumed, the tea,
bread, butter, meat, vegetables

the time, too, consumed in blocks of hours,
eight hours, two hours, the commuting
hours of rain streaking down the
train windows and the collective sigh
when, stalled and darkened, newspapers
rustle in unison......we shall not
have this time back, it evaporates
as steam from the pot, as if it
never were

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