Friday 18 October 2013


Autumn will be all but over  
When I return the leaves will have 
Fallen and it will be colder

There is something cleansing 
About leaving, separation  
The cloistering

Take-off lets me let go 
And I don’t remember 
The September air of home

Wholly present to now

It’s the islands that occupy me 
Completely appealing 

There’s an island in me
Not remote nor far from land 

An island and a separateness

And as soon as I am aware
That the island is not remote
I know 

That I must journey
To the remote recesses
Of the inner and eternal

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