Maureen Weldon
Out of Our Skins
Across a white table: your blue-eyed smile.
We talk of ghosts, telepathy: and what
Could the future be? - And the scale of things...
What would it be like in two thousand and ten?
Then, easy-talk in a haze of wine. In
A room full of guests - family, and friends.
With laughter and music to silver the air...
Will trains be on their tracks? Will I see you again?
Racing past dancing trees, hills and green fields...
Will stabbing stop? Will people care? Will
You be there to greet me? - Touching my fingertips.
Run round the town, jump out of our skins...
Today from my kitchen window, I see.
A rainbow, a promise - split in half- free
Page(s) 13
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