The Bedroom in Autumn
It felt older.
But so did we.
And the rhythm of life was slower.
Even the bells hung
in the cooler air
to open the way for echoes past.
Now the fading shadows
reach out of the tired bed
as if, just to touch us one last time.
4 September 1989
#591) and when I’d finished it as far as I was concerned it was done. Three and a half years later this one popped out of nowhere. It would be 1996 before the other two arrived within two months of each other.
For a guy who doesn’t have much time for ghosts or other spooky things I’ve actually written a fair bit about what happens after death. The dead are a great literary device; that’s my only reason. In this poem the “fading shadows” are echoes or whatever you want to call them of the lovers from ‘The Bedroom’. In fact this whole series of poems ends up being about what I guess you’d call a psychic imprint, i.e. an echo of an emotion, an emotional memory of an event that occurred by those who experienced it. I can’t say I’ve ever experienced anything like it myself but when has lack of knowledge or personal experience ever stopped a writer?
If you want to read the complete sequence it was published here in 2012.