Paul Sutton - Poem

Paul Sutton


Now it's all gone, I could sit
on some mountain forever,
not thinking about moving or 

worrying when the bar closed,
how long the holiday lasted,
just existing up there.

Everything would return: 
family, childhood, stuff
you want to remember.

And that one place would've
waited many centuries for me,
certain someday I'd go back.

I'll not say a word, just travel, 
ignoring the airports and mad
pathogens - maybe up within

the coldest clouds, above
the wreckage littering
what's here below.

All the years you hated me,
when I must have hated you.
Gardens, houses, meetings -

impossible to chart - now
this poison floods the past
we had. I can't think how

I feel - a nothing, that's always
there, not an absence and not
even a loss - just gone and lost.

copyright © Paul Sutton, 2020