Summer evokes memories. I must be something about its sensuality: Light clothing, heat, floral fragrances, sweat, skin. Suddenly you find yourself in a fold in space and time, and things from long ago move through your heart and mind….
I drove down Clanville Road last night.
Summer with the windows down
Transporting myself through
A corrugation in time,
The old road swayed and dipped
Before the car swayed and dipped
And I knew each nuance
Like each furrow in my shin bone,
Like each time you drove the bathroom
Window open to wave goodbye
As I flew up the side street
Having only just rolled off in 2 a.m. silence
So as not to wake your parents.
I drove past Clanville Park last night,
Tasting the breeze of thirty-odd
Years before, this body
Now testing basic structural principles
In its lack of integrity, insipid, as if
The balance of years had somehow
Reversed – the strong, healthy young man
Bereft and needy in heart –
Now driven, as a pilgrim to unity
Of purpose while his ageing body,
Bereft, needy, arthritic and balding,
Looks for a resting place.
I turned from Clanville Road last night,
Though wanting it to last, so I could tell
That young man what to look for,
How to love, how to break
Himself before the accumulating cache
Of what he didn’t choose chose for him –
A coalescing fear that drove away all
That he held dear and melted
What resembled the chassis of his life.
I wanted to brake, tell him to pull over,
That the breeze that feels like freedom
Never is, but still feels that way,
Wanting him to know the difference.
Yes, what would we say to our younger selves now that we’ve lived 2/3, 3/4 (?) of our lives.