war for peace

     
sunday morning    
and I lie on the couch      
     
all about me      
lay books on the usual things;      
poetry      
strategy      
the philosophy of the greeks      
while BB King plays slow blues      
in the background    
to keep the noise of the city quiet    
     
downstairs      
the clothes drier does the work      
a slave would have done      
in the days the philosophers wrote    
     
and BB sings it still    
     
I have been here on this couch      
most Sundays      
for three months now      
except the ones spent at sea      
and even then      
the Sunday morning ritual      
remains the same;    
     
to read    
listen      
and look long      
at what I am      
     
first rule is      
look honestly    
     
second rule      
don’t fear      
     
third rule      
accept      
and change    
     
so I lie      
and look      
trawl through memory      
for lessons      
and there are plenty      
     
moments I missed      
women I didn't    
and jobs      
towns      
money      
come and gone      
     
always the leaving      
     
the greeks say      
don’t leave      
expecting change      
if the person you won’t love      
is the only one you have to take      
with you      
     
I’ve decided to put some roots down      
build a house      
build a shed      
put some grass under my feet      
after twenty years      
of moving moving      
     
not saying I’ve learned anything      
still don't love the guy      
who's followed me      
all these years      
carrying suitcases      
I never unpacked      
     
but I'm happy enough      
to stay in one spot      
and look close at him      
     
there comes a moment      
in any fight      
if you want victory    
that you have to let the enemy      
catch up