Tuesday, 17 July 2012

Personal Ad

In these days of everyone being traceable,
if they’re still among the living,
there’s this one friend from the old days
I still can’t track down.

Photography was his life.

His voice was as clear as the landscape
he came from: a place of green hills
where legendary battles were fought
by men on white horses.

Each day he headed into the hills
in his battered Datsun.

If you happen to see him,
please let me know.

2 comments:

  1. Actually I just did a search for an old friend a few days ago—actually an old girlfriend, the first girl I ever fell in love with when I was about eleven—only to discover an obituary; it turn out she died a year ago last week. She would have been fifty-two. So you can imagine your poem hit me at the right time as I’ve been looking up lots of old classmates since then. The girls are the hardest to trace since most will have changed their names. It looks like Alison never married though and luckily she had a slightly unusual surname.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi Jim,

      I'm sorry to hear that your search led to an obituary. It can be a scary business looking back. But it's a compelling thing to try and do. I think that the subject of my poem's probably still around but keeping a low cyber-profile.

      Thanks for reading, good to hear from you.

      Delete

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