The last time a star went supernova
I was leaning over
up to my armpits
in the freezer part
of the local supermarket
extracting fishfingers and peas.
I miss most things.
Events in outer space are
wasted on me.
Zoë, in a day unremarkable
for its autumnal gloom,
brings me three tattered leaves
attached like plumes
to a dead branch:
"Put it in water, Mummy!
Quick! Hurry!
We much keep it alive!"
Amidst the toing and froing
of life I strive to keep going.
If I had time to ponder life's meaning
I would but
in a life bounded by shoulds,
I clean and cook,
water plants, feed cats,
think wistfully of books.
In a life bounded by oughts
I, like that star,
long to burst forth.
Or, like Zoë's branch,
wish that I too,
could be given a second chance.
©BAZanditon 1991
Listen to an examination of this poem from BBC Wales
© B.A.Zanditon 2024