Howard Firkin
It would be worth remembering this scene:
the mountains in the background, lit with cloud,
the lake, sail-speckled, beach paved with the towels
of families and lovers. What would it mean
to conjure this scene any day or night?
For hundreds here, who sit like me and stare,
this is a pictured memory. For me,
it's gone. Gone with its moment. What I see
dissolves to words not worth the time to share.
I envy you that magic double sight.
For me there is no magic lantern show:
the past is an uncoloured, dot point list.
So please assure me, every time you go,
the future past you plan should not be missed.
the mountains in the background, lit with cloud,
the lake, sail-speckled, beach paved with the towels
of families and lovers. What would it mean
to conjure this scene any day or night?
For hundreds here, who sit like me and stare,
this is a pictured memory. For me,
it's gone. Gone with its moment. What I see
dissolves to words not worth the time to share.
I envy you that magic double sight.
For me there is no magic lantern show:
the past is an uncoloured, dot point list.
So please assure me, every time you go,
the future past you plan should not be missed.