Poetry

Manage With Less

Alastair McIvor

Varash, Rivnenska, 2024 December

In those days you will stand by the window,
Quiet, unbroken.
Sweat in uncomplicated sunshine,
Care not to move,
Soak in simple circumstance,
Dare, blink, unclench your tendons tired of war.

You will manage.
Look out at the apartment opposite,
Sluggish concrete bored, yawning at the shade.
It will be there next year,
Either with fresh paint or with its aged dusty cheek.
Sparrows won’t mind which.

Less murder.
Less sleeplessness.
Less funeral music marched slowly past the kneelers.
Your breath, a shadow of serenity on the cold glass.
In those days you will practice ordinary life.
You will manage.
You will be there next year.