Tim's Dreamer

It was the last sticky and compressed
Moisture soaking
Blessed day
Of the journey’s
Final leg

And Tim was horny for home

He was waiting
Drinking transit coffee
In a faded airport armchair
Orange pink
Dreaming

His face sported new lines
And older eyes
Foreign
Precious
Hard earnt
Remembering Berlin

Berlin
Where café patrons slid off wet streets
Through sleet
Into cigarette smoked
Drier spaces
To watch the narrow
Penetrating
Darkness
Fall

He went with it
Dirty city refugee
Candle lit
Deeper
Picking up a scent
Offering life’s shoulder a wrap
Of soft Mohair

Yet something missing niggled
Needed attention
Like a new dark gap
Where a decaying tooth
Used to be

He had been longing to be a lover
Any lover
He didn’t care
With just the right amount of sin
And beckoning bedroom eyes
Even the kind that
farted in bed

Tim slept
Alleviating vanity
Dreaming belated
And wet eyed goodbyes

He generated heat
Methodically building a shiny
Sunny city
While placing the games he played with darkness
On detention

Tim's Dreamer

Robert Knapman

Adelaide, Australia

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