Things and Change

It’s been a pretty full on few weeks here at Perring Towers. Mostly, those weeks have been filled with editing and course things, but I’ve also found time to read a little (Aimee Bender’s The Color Master is every bit as wonderful as I’d expected it to be, and contains the best short story I’ve read this year in Tiger Mending). I met up with a couple of old friends too, which was lovely – I’d literally not seen either of them in years.



And then, last Friday, I went out. I don’t go out out very often. I’m boring now, and have to be up in the morning and things, but I thought sod it, it’s nearly Christmas, so I dressed up and went to a town I used to go to often when I was a much younger man. And it was good. Fun was had. But it was so different to how it used to be. Not in  a bad way, just different. A lot can change it ten years, I know I certainly have. And change is something, historically, I’ve not been very good with. I’m better with it now, I think. And it got me to thinking, and that, in turn, got me to writing something (pretty lazily and quickly) over the weekend: a small poem which the lovely folks over on Facebook seemed to like so I thought I’d share it here. Sod it. It is nearly Christmas, after all.


I went back there last night
and I walked the same streets that we walked
back then
when we were young.
When you smiled every time we held hands
like I did too.
When we danced and laughed
or simply sat and breathed the same air
in cafes and bars, happy.
But those bars and those cafes were gone
last night
when I walked our streets.
That place had changed
and I wondered that if I saw you I’d think you’d changed
as much as our place had
and if, maybe,
my memory of you
and that place,
was better.

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