Thursday, 1 September 2016

The Club

It costs a lot to join our secret club
but join you will, I guarantee, one day.
Your card will likely not come through the post
but face to face; “I don’t know what to say”,
the bearer of your membership might start.
For me it was “there’s been an accident”
and then I knew. I read the face. A wave
of misery, unmoved by words well-meant.
The long estrangement from the normal world
begins, and never quite recedes it seems:
some people walk despite a missing leg
and yet the leg is gone, except in dreams.

The meetings might be good – I never go,
I wonder if I should. I manage, though
if that is what to call it.

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