From the series 'Moon Rivers' (Marcus)


The poignant smell of the past clings on,
Weighing heavy in the air.
Smothering us in thick layers of soft white clouds.
With pins in,
That can leap out and sting at whim.

I want to let it all go.
But need to be free, of all reminders to do so.
And then solidly work on clearing certain memory banks,
Of all loose traces.
Brainwipe required...
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind.

Had it all.
There,
Here,
and NowHere at all.

I want out, from under this smouldering blanket.
And crave the fresh air above.
That sweet taste of freedom.
Almost within reach,
So close,
And yet so far.

We have come to this place
You and I, the path lays long behind us.

As we take the inevitable next step,
To where?
Nowhere,
But here.
And this bittersweet moment.

The poignancy is all around us.
Yet we dare not speak of it's oppressive presence.
So instead, we speak of other things.
And then I leave.
Erasing my mind all the way home.


©Petra Creffield 2004