#Poem you and your secrets

My picture is of Blake’s dividers –
the right point, a few weeks hence
the left, back a month or two, or more, maybe

How far into the past do you want to go?
The danger when wringing out the best from history
is the side-effect of sterility

Many are not so lucky –
their fractured dream, dwelt in, not ditched, replaced
doesn’t give much to remember

Is your picture a Stone Age wall-painting?
Only because that’s where we started
Even deaf and blind, you can trace the outline, smell the old daub

It always was you, you and your secrets, open or hidden
I guess now it’s the latter, but better than having nothing
Watch me fall away, or bounce, who knows

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