Adrian Wait Poems

The sun unveils the secret myriad
through rain splashed windows
A thousand rainbows on the train
Stare back at me in droplets
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Peace the absence of War
The presence of justice
Freedom delivered on a B52
War the tool for Peace
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Deficient of kindness
Tis a cold, indifferent world
Where seldom does love
Walk in order to sense
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Murmured voices from another room
Hushed in traditional reverence
Mourning in silence the English way
Awkward conversations of time lost
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The ashes of broken dreams
Witnesses fires of the heart
Fade in grey and cold
What once was, slips away
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He had made a thousand, thousand
This one is just the same
Nothing special, nothing grand
Same skill, same tools, same aim
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On passing the junkyard
I saw the dreams of yesterday
what once was a prize
Lies rusting now
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Woe to the brown rice priests
Indifferent of so much pain
Locked in detached materialism
Pride and career your only gain
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On a wet Sunday afternoon
I visit you for the second time
A mere forty-five years later
Have you lost weight?
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Tiny hand grasps
A mother’s finger
Holding hands
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