49

… I am walking backwards
     a step at a time
          into my second childhood

my face in the mirror
     is no longer that of the little boy
          I used to be

I open so many boxes
     stored in my mind’s attic
          but find only dust and ashes
               the burnt-out remains
                    of long-gone days …

50

… sitting in the car
     waiting for my beloved
          to finish her shopping

who are they
     these faceless people
          these ghosts
               who look at me
                    then avert their eyes

I see their faces
     distorted in the puddles
          left by last night’s rain

why don’t they speak to me
     why do they always
          avoid my eyes

is it the blue sticker
     in the windscreen …  

Commentary:

I see their faces distorted in the puddles left by last night’s rain.