I was supposed to be spending this Edinburgh day with Edinburgh son, as it is the last for a while. Then the electric cable people arrived and need access to the flat and the stair (they are ahead of schedule, supposed to be next week). Just as well I am here, as QiuMing and JinHua would never be able to understand them and would be frantically phoning Edinburgh son. I thought I would write, but the noise is dreadful, reblogging this poem seems to suit. See son later.

Poetry of Moods and Moments

From many other parts of my writing, it is clear that I am putting in a lot of love-miles, as my grandchildren live on opposite sides of the world. Going to is pretty full of joy and anticipation, but there is an equal amount of leaving. This was written in September 2009.

Time for leaving
Coming
Inexorably arriving.
So I want to write
liberal mind freeing thoughts
which involve
Hope
And arriving
at the other side of this end.
But it doesn’t happen.
Pen moves on paper
Brain talks words
Forgets words.

What is the name for that ball
which spins
above the dancers,
Flashing broken
mirrors of light
momentarily
on faces?
Whatever its name
It is for looking at
from outside
Blinking from
the rich full darkness
of warm bodies
dancing.

Inside,
empty,
like the feeling
of leaving.
The flash and colour
of affection
does not get past
the…

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