Hawk-eyed, impatient, I perch before a
First-floor window and await your imminent
Arrival in the way that a stranded crab might
Yearn for the welcoming arms of an approaching
Tide.  At the merest glimpse of your familiar
Form, distant and yet instantly recognisable,
I am captured by a mysterious and invisible
Undercurrent, drawn away like a shard of ocean
Driftwood as the limited confines of my world
Are forced apart by a revelatory consciousness
Of the heart. Tho’ it be late in the day, when the
Flickering streetlamps of twilight are beginning
To display the intermittent symmetricality that
Courses through the buzzing circuitry that marks
Their nocturnal labours, a familiar light returns to
A darkening sky and I find myself joyfully illumined
By the natural radiance of your latest homecoming.

Words: Troy Southgate, © 12.IV.19
Art: Paul Bloomer, The Return of the Light

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