Life in an envelope addressed to myself.

December 8, 2010

I come to a forest clearing
on my life’s journey
sit down
and wait for you.

In waking life I walk
in dreams I sprint

Walking uphill
I see my life
laid out
before me.

If I freeze
this moment in time
will I be able
to thaw it out

In old mirrors
I’m not wearing

In a hall
of mirrors
I see all

Trying to turn back time
I move

Happiness is
a word
I’m starting
to spell

My mouth
a window
I open it
to let some air

In the shade
of a lemon tree
I find peace.

Oar blades cleave the water
as I row on
into the blue.

Scraping mirror glass
while shaving the face
of the man
I’d like to be.

I wake
to find the other side of the bed
already made.

You only see the tip of the iceberg
of my hopes and dreams,
of my life.

Memories of you
in a cardboard box
stored in the attic.

Washed up
on the surf
of your

I place my steady
hand on the tracks and feel the
cool hum of power.

Jumping on the spot
faster and faster
pure abandon
can’t stop
can you?

I place my palm
on a stone
and feel

It takes four and a half minutes
for me
to realise
my life
makes sense.

Lying on my bed
half a sky away
from you.

is a word
that has

4 Responses to “Life in an envelope addressed to myself.”

  1. A beautiful collection, Peter…

  2. Heather said

    Inspirar munt de poemes.
    Com un riu de paraules.
    Hidratant pell seca.

  3. Dani H said

    All wonderful, Peter, but I especially like ~

    “Scraping mirror glass
    while shaving the face
    of the man
    I’d like to be.”

    i look in a mirror
    and see the face
    of a woman
    i don’t understand
    living a life

  4. Andi said

    Happy Christmas, Peter!

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