Meeting At Five Past

James Inkster 5 March 2019
Image Credit: Kasper Rasmussen

I met a memory at noon, on the corner

Of Shakespeare Street, near Dean Road

Where my grandfather had walked

Home from school. I recalled him

Telling me the tale of his youth.

I remembered his remembrance

And walked, imposter-like, down

The lanes of his memory,

Encountering a second-hand story

Of red-brick walls and painted clay

And horses and carts and kids at play

With unwashed hands.

He’d sketch on the backs of cereal

Boxes, drawing a life without plans

Or horizons. Simply creating. And

then I met myself at five past noon,

Walking out of someone else’s day.