memoirs, art and fragments by Thomas Milner

I remember it well

All our notions and ideas,

All our fears and desires,

They pursue us down ever-narrowing rivers,

Down ever-decreasing fields of choice,

Ever-frailer bifurcations

Until we are left clutching at leaves,

Autumnal leaves ghostly and dream-like,

Fading and evanescent in the misty dusk.

I remember it well – driving along snow-driven moorland road, my headlights illuminating white diagonal swathes in the silence of that dark white night.

I remember the jakes at school, wet, cold and clammy and the four-hundred-year-old cedar tree on the ancient grass, propped-up by poles.

Poles Convent girls dancing with the pure-at-heart and that brown-eyed lady of the lowlands,

I remember her well.



Comments on: "I remember it well" (4)

  1. donna jones said:

    absolutely beautiful tom.


  2. ana lima Guerreiro said:

    Lindo Tom! Reconheço a expressão da pic.Linda mas triste .


  3. Tom, I would love to hear more of your poetry. I am enjoying taking baby steps in this genre myself because it seems more liberating somehow. What is a Jake, by the way?
    x J


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