Dual II

Afloat in the new sea.
Wake to dreams of
the old country.
This curious mix of
wanting the familiar,
while hating how
it alters the now.
Reality’s tumble dryer.
No better than
yesterday’s messes.
A visitor now
where once
part of the scene.


Seems like forever blue-grey
On the Cork – Heathrow run.
No matter either journey.
Usually a dearth of sun.

Going home half breaks the heart.
Coming back again, the same.
Each route for different reasons.
Yet all a part of the game.

This is the bit they don’t tell you.
When first you board the plane.
You left to limit the heartache.
But it’ll catch you all the same.