Later, my son, said my father,
if he could,
you’ll be an old man.
Later you will yearn to learn the how and why.
They’ll stamp you like luggage.
They’ll hurt you for your wishes and your dreams.
And you’ll try once and for all to photograph
the how and the why of the woman
who turns between your sheets
who sings as you expand in her skin.
And later still, son, your life
will be a scrapbook.
But not for ages yet, no, not for ages yet.
Top Posts & Pages
Links to elsewhere
Posts from elsewhere
- Betrayal Throughout history, treachery and betrayal have been considered amongst the very worst offences. This fascinating study examines the impact of betrayal, revenge and the nature of forgievness
- Hope What is hope? In his autobiography, Miracles of Life, the writer J.G. Ballard offers an arresting case in point
- Letters Letters from the novelist Iris Murdoch to her mentor, the French surrealist Raymond Queneau
- Music and Memory To celebrate the launch of Granta 111: Going Back the magazine asked contributors for playlists of songs on the theme of memory
- Regret Regret is a short, evocative and achingly beautiful word; an elegy to lost possibilities
