I have seen things that you will never see,
heard things that you will never hear,
been to places that have disappeared in the mist.
Don’t imagine that it didn’t happen
just because you were not there.
I have lived.
My memories walk with me,
holding me up,
helping me along,
filling my days.
Thoughts of half remembered summers
caressing my face,
I stretch out my hands
towards the log fires of my youth,
and watch the sparks
chase away through the darkness
of the chimney breast.
The present is cold and unforgiving.
I step out of my front door, unseen.
There are things I could say,
but they will not ask.
Things I could do
but my body lets me down.
Things I know,
that I keep to myself.
I am left to go quietly,
listening and wondering
at this strange new world.