Thirty years of silence
self-imposed?
But looking at it now
I’m not sure
of the way it began at all.
Rejections I suppose
played their part
the cruelty of words
written in the absence
of an art
or maybe heart will do
“Politics is no longer vogue”
Turning back
Signs of a town
that’s turned
in on itself
Meanwhile
the river flows
to the sea
Lost
Long ago
I walked home
And heard
Felt
The explosion
My classmates’
Fathers, brothers
Uncles, men
Had been lost
We use that word
Lost too loosely.
