To Unlived Life

Always at the door, or tapping

at the window, it calls:

“Please let me in.”


In kisses and poems,

where unheard words

write unsent letters,

it calls out to me,

from books

that fall off shelves,

opening at pages

where phrases stand

like a wink caught sideways

on Goya’s Dona Isabel

as she sways her hips

as if to say

“Come, play with me.”


It beckons from silences,

between notes

in Mahler symphonies,

from wisps of foliage

with spindles

that catch and stay

in my skin

even as I walk

into my room

where I remember

journeys my toy cars took

over the carpet, out

into adventures in deserts,

across space and time

to life unfettered

by parents and schools.


Graham Mummery

From Meeting My Inners Pindrop Press (© 2015)

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