My memory plays the tricks
of age, making the lines
and shadows disappear
from your face.
I catch your eye and,
turning half away,
you beckon with a look
for me to follow.
Your hand slips
comfortably into mine
and we move off into the night,
there to live our
shared fantasies:
and then my head jerks,
lolling, half asleep in
my chair,
dreaming
half-remembered dreams,
I wake,
seeing you thereacross the room,
and then
I light the flame once more
a thousand times.
© Colin Gordon-Farleigh 1978
taken from Fragments of Earth
Published by Voice Publications, 2006. ISBN978-0-9553583-1-0
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