Landing Poem by GRANT FRASER

The best thing I can
offer, a poem...

not ever knowing
is still growing,

lost opportunities,

responsibilities are slow,

to face a blank wall,
stoop over the cooker
with a blinding force,

even though I've managed
to land on the moon,
there is still no room
for the empty space,

a face everyday that I
don't recognise, or won't
ever know...

I have to leave the craft
more often, to look...
beyond the next horizon,

memories pour over my old
face,
even though the world can
do without me,

but it is never enough,

'a fledgling! '

with this ever daunting
idea of professing,

professing...professing....

confessing...

that I am still lost
in here,
happy one moment, sad
the next,

perplexed sits like
a Sun,
on all of my horizons,

and the words either
greet or cheat me,

Win or lose...