Friend
To conclude I
think this;
He is caught
and guards himself
until he
escapes into the dark,
grabbing his
keys from the table.
But everywhere
you go you hear memory.
So he flees but
cannot go far
so he writes a
note. To me I’m afraid.
The note from
him contains a CD made for me
which I puzzle
in my pocket on the way to work.
Driving late
and fast I fizz it in. I overtake and listen.
Is that The
Only Cowboy in Sweden –
singing about
the rain?
Slowing, I
remember to love him. Because I can.
They washed
Roman soldiers outside the cities
when they came
back bloodied and dirty from war.
They bathed
them. Not their wives. Low women.
On behalf of
the people. Before dawn.
What did
Diocletian say to his crowd of men?
The waited,
newly home, for the born sun to dry their skin.
I looked it up.
It is this. ‘Now you have completed the unforgivable
for me, forgive
yourselves. Do not wait for the enemy’s wounds to heal’.
I have left
four messages for him. On the same lines.
James Bullion
28th March 2013
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