Posted in Love

Chiaroscuro

Posted on by tq1695

Tertiary education was smaller then,
colleges and classes pro rata –
10 – 12 – 15 in a graduating year.
Perhaps the bonds were more intimate,
in those more intimate times
or he impressive –
lost,
in the prime of youth
doing what he loved …. in the mountains.
His classmates commissioned a work
1 m x .6m watercolour on canvas,
blue and white
moving boldly between
ascending infinity on double ropes and vertical ice
mounted on the library wall.
above a plaque proclaiming his passions –
life, climbing and science
and
perpetual memory and love by his classmates.

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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.