This is a further exploration of transience..... of passing to and fro...of  lives begun, lived and ended. It is also a celebration of all life. 

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The Life Lived

The Life Lived
brought us both here,
yours and mine,
you and me.
Genetic lines -
I am your impurity
your blood mixed;
our commonality
seeming clear
makes each a hybridisation,
nothing pure in the world.
Your dear dead wife,
was she the sorceress
or the apprentice,
the saucer or the cup?
But I am not your cup of tea,
never was.
Your dear dead self
within my thumbs,
some aspect of my nose;
where is your residence now,
if not in the way I swing a hammer
and a certain mystical absorption
with the sound of a clarianet.

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ar 2025

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