Nothing had changed save for the faces

being a little older than what I was prepared for,

nothing was different except the for the skyline

having been hijacked by a view that was out of place

and nothing had altered at all,

except for my perception of a world I hadn’t seen in three decades.

 

I looked around me and what I had left behind

and the sweat ran down my forehead, blistering

as it mixed with tears of regret, kept hidden

and just what might have been had I the courage to say no,

I will not leave

I will not travel onwards

I will not pass on and through again,

for the skyline is never out of place if you see it evolve

on a daily basis

and the faces of the laughed at, lived in, loved and lingered over

with the touch of an oily index finger as you trace the past

never seem to age as much if you

see them mature at the same pace that the mirror

reflects and muses on your greying heart.

 

Nothing begat nothing, the offspring of naught

is prolific a beast, for the expectation of nothing

ravages like a wounded tiger stalking

the damaged hunter, one shot left, better to pump

into his own insanity than take down the shadow

purring in the distance, Time here is the King

and three decades pass, my heart

greyer, nothing has changed.

 

Ian D. Hall 2015