Confusion

Away on another front, living out memories

of distorted futures and vacant pasts,

he glided above half familiar roof-tops

making diminishing progress with each stroke

until the air took on the consistency of glue,

not daring to look back, but sensing the destruction

in his mind’s eye; tracking the trajectory

of each projectile on its lazy arc across the low

green hills and conversing with someone

he hadn’t seen in twenty years of yesterdays,

he woke,

and for a brief moment – frozen in eternity –

he was unsure whether he’d passed from

reality to fantasy, or simply opened his eyes.

John H Davies

21st January 2011