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The Cold Streets of Now ©

Robin MacLean
Oban, Scotland

I have left the joy of life, for now
behind some corner of the room
in such a place, at least, I can find it again
but only when I need it

Hiding from the street light in the rain
I look for clues as to what to do
my wings, not giving rise to flight
hang sadly behind my back
they drag along the wet pavements of now

I plod along and stop to put my collar up
itís getting cold and I am wet
the streets seem to me as barren as my heart
they lead my body on past every doorway

The moon shows her face
for a moment I forget myself
but only for a moment
lightning strikes his drum
it strikes some far off place
he reminds me that I am walking

I carry on alone
I reach a harbour wall and look down
the sea looks black and uninviting
I plunge in to the coldness of its warmth

My body now knows peace
I float away towards the horizon
to where I do not know
and what I do is only memory
I think I hear the gulls
but it was just a dream.

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