News from the Home Front / by Alex Williamson

Under the sun-flecked pines

of Culbin Forest

Mid-October

Mid-autumn

I’m with our children

At the rope swing

Near the shrine

For the 18 year old boy

Who went out one summer

And never came home

We come here 

Once a month

Whenever we can convince the kids 

It’s worth the walk

Not for the shrine

But I always look at it

Rainbow ribbons

And dreamcatchers

Faded photographs

‘Always Be Kind’

My wife is unhappy with me

And I can’t blame her

I’ve been wrong for so long

I can’t remember being right

I think it was Huxley who said

You can’t change the world

But you can change yourself

It’s not for the want of trying

People tell me

I’m difficult

Difficult to get on with

Difficult to like

And that I’m worse

Once they get to know me

My wife would like me to be

More considerate

More caring

More kind

Less angry

I have trouble

Expressing myself

When I am not myself

Though I still do not know

Who or what I am supposed to be

But then

Neither does she

And this is our predicament

Neither recognises the other

Our boys know who they are

Their names

Their friends

Their family

Their home

I am afraid

That one day soon

All this will be theirs

Grown up sorrow

Grown up pain

The feeling that

The fault lies with them

The knowledge that

Things have changed

And will never be

The same again 

It’s hard not to hate

The sense of an ending

We never mean to hurt

But sometimes hurting

Is easier

Than loving

Like that Ozon film

That ends as it begins

And begins as it ends

The couple swimming away

Side by side

Into the dimming light

If you told those two kids

On that beach in Sardinia

Sleepy eyed with lust

Embracing in the surf

Like there was no one watching

That it would end this way

If you’d told them

Would they have believed it?

I want to see Sardinia again

With you

I want to go everywhere

With you

I will go anywhere

With you

But your heart is already 

Somewhere else

Somewhere new