Tag Archives: To The Memory Yet To Come. poetry by Ian D Hall

To The Memory Yet To Come.

How will it feel to see you again?

Part of me is terrified, not of you, but

of the memories you will bring to town

and lay at my door mat as you knock repeatedly,

Time your ally as you surprise me with a giant

version of pass the parcel, my layers since leaving you

regretfully, in some cases with genuine tears of affection,

stripped back, the me of now, just a school boy in bigger

trousers, longer hair, still angry at the world;

regressing through Time until the music

stops.