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Transition for M 'Lady Ann Beard
Alone, afraid in sore distress
I know not where I am or why.
My recent memories suppressed
I can’t remember though I try
I can’t be seen apparently
invisible to passers by.
They pause but momentarily.
I rack my brains and wonder why.
The very last thing I recall
is waiting for an omnibus.
Then all is blank nothing at all.
I find it very curious.
The streets are unfamiliar
I don’t think I’ve been here before.
I should have gone by motorcar.
I’m not sure what I’m looking for.
I wander slowly, aimlessly
With no idea what I should do
it is a total mystery
to which I have no slightest clue.
Why is it no one can see me?
or hear a single word I say.
It is as if I’d ceased to be.
I feel an urge I must obey.
I’m suddenly transported to
the last place that I can recall.
I have no choice but to review
my aging body slip and fall.
A victim of a heart attack.
Dead before I hit the ground.
The memories come flooding back.
I know I have my answer found.
I realise that I am dead
that’s why nobody can see me
nor hear a single word I’ve said.
I don’t exist substantially.
Though I have changed I am still me
in spirit form adapted to
a different reality
from that my worn out body knew.
13-Apr-08
http: //blog.myspace.com/poetic piers
poem
by
Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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