In Peace

©Jane Paterson Basil

Seeing you again

as each day fades,
electric specks of yellow
dab across the urban scene,
and pools of synthetic illumination
stain the streets like nicotine.

evening traffic plays follow the leader;
an endless stream of petrol-soaked metal
looking for an escape
from the ever-increasing concrete heaps.

as night spills ink on the greasy river,
and windows, one by one, cease beaming,
I lie in my bed and feel my way to dreamtime;
jumping on a smokescreen bus which speeds me
to a remembered green place far away,
where I can select the weather;
the time of day; my age;
and my company.

I always summon the same details;
sunshine, early evening, seventeen,
and you; king to my falling queen.

we sit beneath an oak tree bent with history;
our secrets hidden in the depths of its tactful trunk.
this year’s leaves discreetly absorb
this rising night’s intimate whispers;
as together we lean,
making believe it is the last time we will meet.

this is my perfect dream,
repeated endlessly;
guaranteeing
I will always
see you
again.

The Daily Post #Tree

©Jane Paterson Basil