a circular poem
it seemed just like any other day: brief,
peaceful even epiphanic moments,
snatched between the demands of busy-ness,
a thirty-mile drive
(we had to get back for half past four).
I could say perhaps
I should’ve made connections,
although perhaps I did
and, realising I was powerless,
dismissed them.
Reading what I wrote at the time,
it’s hard to ascribe
memories to the written words.
Looking back all I can say is
it was a turning point.
I often return
to the events of that day
and when I do they keep going round
and round in my head,
even though at the time
.
Dominic Rivron
Picture Nick Victor
.