Thursday, 16 August 2012

Conversations On A Stair

I think I knew it was him, just from the way he stood
The sun was at his back as he quietly walked down the stairs
The toes slightly facing in and his gait shifted forwards.
The sun caught the dust dancing in eddies and whirlpools of light but I could see that the head was up and looking straight forward.
That’s what confused me at first.
As I got nearer I could see him grinning - then I was certain.
Perhaps he didn’t recognise me but surely he must have known.
I said “Hello” and he stopped and talked – not long, but long enough.
He told me that he’d started to live and I could see there was hope hanging in his eyes.
I told him he looked happy and he said he was.
He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. He said that these tough times had a reason; it meant the stories and ideas would be forged from a harder steel – my writing would electrify the heavens, one day, you’ll see.
I shook his hand and wished him well then waved goodbye but by then he had already turned a corner, as I must.
Conversations on a stair with my future self -
I smiled at what was to come.

bobby stevenson 2012

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