PICTURE A WORLD GONE BY

Martin Steele

Picture a world gone by.

Forget about the colours if you’re painting portraits,

And forget about the smudges as you felt for his lips.

Sketch his shadow ensconced in lonely buckled alleys,

Sharing heart shivers with demolished towers.

Feel with your fingertips for his footprints in the tarnished paint

And recognise his photo of you lying in the dust,

Midst shards of hurried falling scree,

And sacred dust-mists from high above the sky.

Shape a world gone by.

View him in his morning suit and bright black brogues.

Wave to him with your wet handkerchief

That bears this morning’s kiss.

See him, your beloved, as he disappears from your drive to go to Sheol.

Build stars with your bright satin tears.

Look up to the world gone by.

Catch his blown kisses in your outstretched arms.

Run quickly and trace all the images you can,

Meandering off nearby staggering giants.

Stay a long while and stare. Look up.

You knew there was nothing there but you waved your flag.

Thrash out at the world gone by.

Stand fast. Be courageous; his breath will find you,

And fortify you with granite strength.

Look up; all the missing are waving from the sky.

They are embracing their loved ones

And planning safe new worlds.

Move away slowly from the misty, crying ruins.

Go home. Feel for his warmth in this morning’s unmade bed.

Feel the cotton threads. Touch the fullness. It is he,

Waiting behind your burning eyes.

Be patient. He sees,

He needs you and your proud sobbing flag,

In this world gone by.

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