Blue, blue day
late spring countryside, still green, soon it will be yellow
then brown.
900 m to sea level
3000 feet to 0
youth, fitness, tailwind :God’s trifecta.
We pulled into the car park at the same time
them in upmarket sedan
me on two wheels
both attend to grooming
me brushing off dust, flicking away sweat
they loosening ties and removing jackets
hot.
Feet, four pairs of expensive leather
one of sneakers
crunch gravel.
We hold the door for each other
“ no after you ”
five tumble through simultaneously.
At the bar
“ what are you having – our shout ”
one lager and four single malt’s,
I join their table – they insist.
They have come from my destination – a funeral,
a good mate
from about, “ the age you are now.”
Forty years before
the war just ended …. their lives just about to begin.
They tell me about the road
when it was shingle
and before the bridges – the fords and washouts
they had come up here a bit then
“ hunting and stuff ” – no wives and kids yet.
Eyes of six and a half decades shimmer and glow
four,
once again five, once again young.
Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry 