Posted in Before the Rain

Facts of Life

We became friends
like rain in the tropics.
There were no beginnings,
it just began – strong and resolute.

I never quite understood how,
he could have been my father – just.
I could have been his kid bother – just
but ….
age seemed all wrong.
Perhaps it was cricket –
we were both mad about the game.

Whatever the nature of our bond,
he always made time for me
and I sought him out most days …..
animated talk, much laughter and occasional gossip.
Once expecting emphatic denial
I quietly asked about
just heard tittle tattle – that a staff member beat his wife.

He took a long while to answer
then spoke as if much older,
soft
slow.

“ You haven’t been here very long …..
in this town, you might know someone’s business,
but,
you don’t mind it for them.”

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Author:

Most of my life has been spent on the bench, occasionally called into the game by extravagance or attenuation. Waiting has turned a loner into a recorder - nondescript and inconsequential, more not noticed than overlooked - the non-vantage point of children not yet considered old enough to understand. Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry is a lifetime of picking anecdotes up and not throwing them away. Stories collected like odds and ends placed in a box in the basement, the garage, the garden shed - uncertain as to what their use might be but knowing that one day there might be one.