The Day I Passed Your Place

I passed your place today.
That home of rotting fruit
and wooden handcarts.
A reminder of how shaken
I’d once been, slipped over me.
A blanket of hatred:
your face reddened with rage.
Why ?

My path crossed yours,
and nothing more.
A father collecting his child,
calm because work was over.
Thinking about preparing a meal.
And on after bedtime stories,
into a weekend of playgrounds,
sandpits, and peanut butter malts.

And yet there it is,
emanating from your open mouth:
unchecked anger.
And oh how I felt inside.
So what did you do next.
Did that hatred subside,
or was it all consuming,
taking you to the gutter.

A slide towards oblivion.
You see what its like to presume;
it leads nowhere.
Go back into your hole,
and sit among the rotting things.
Reflect a little.
Breath slowly, like I did,
on the day I passed your place.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: