Tuesday, 19 April 2016

the hut

We must leave the hut at some stage,
leave its welcoming sound as the rain falls,
the tree’s limbs brushing like memories
and the rattling of the front door, leave them all
at some stage - or if not; if we stay,
grow old and succumb - breath falling away in leaves
as brittle as time’s footprints - even then
we must leave or if not stay
while those who come after us, retch and turn away,
close the door and wander far into the reaches
we feared to search and then we stay and yet move
ever further away from whatever held us.

So it is that we must leave the hut at some stage,
head out into the emptiness of unknowing
and unfamiliar and journey towards a future
as distant from that hut as time and death can take us.

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