Open Space

 

At ninety three a life is simplified.

Soon after dawn awake, a shower, a slow

walk up the drive – the paper fetched, a shave,

porridge, a cup of tea. He’s not alone –

a partnership of over sixty years,

in golden light she sits with him, transfigured.

Heidegger philosophised a clearing –

an open space within a forest – rigour

marked this thinking, no necessity

for proof, instead a discipline – from darkness

light, in hiddenness a radiance.

My fathers sees a cloudy sky – an ark

of dark divinity – all that is human

replicated in all that is inhuman.

 

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