Opening boxes

Opening boxes

Our son’s baby picture mug,
So faded only I would know
What it had been..
A Photograph of my first wife.
The memories peel out
In curls like pimpled skin from Oranges
Or Church bells falling..

Into the quiet, dust of the loft.

Then the many venomed coils of mambas for
The DVD, will we ever See Sky
Again “My sweet “ ? I hiss

Just now,
Autumn leaves in flame
Quivered Gold along the Brighton Road,
When we triumphed to our home.
But now we carry boxes out.
Cheerful birds mock the metal Owl
On our neighbours aerial,
Our pile of, soon to be disposed, of tat,
Seems to amuse them too.

They fly up like wishes
When I drive the boxes out,
Around a turn, ..
A Huge Sky stretches over the world,
High Downs gallop Sea-ward

And our Tomorrows
Will be opened
Soon