It Is Something I Recognise

He Thinks About Her, At This Moment, In Her House, A Few Thin Walls Away, Packing Her Life Into Boxes And Bags And He Wonders What Memories She Is Rediscovering, What Thoughts Are Catching In Her Mouth Like The Dust Blown From Unused Textbooks. He Wonders If She Has Buried Any Traces Of Herself Under Her Floorboards. He Wonders What Those Traces Would Be If She Had. And He Wonders Again Why He Thinks About Her So Much When He Knows So Little To Think About.

Everybodys Got Their Own Situation And Their Own Needs.

You Must Always Look With Both Of Your Eyes And Listen With Both Of Your Ears. He Says This Is A Very Big World And There Are Many Many Things You Could Miss If You Are Not Careful. There Are Remarkable Things All The Time, Right In Front Of Us, But Our Eyes Have Like The Clouds Over The Sun And Our Lives Are Paler And Poorer If We Do Not See Them For What They Are. If Nobody Speaks Of Remarkable Things, How Can They Be Called Remarkable?

It Is Something I Recognise In Myself. I Do Eavesdrop. I Do People-watch, A Lot.

The Whole City Stopped - And This Is A Pause Worth Savouring, Because The World Will Soon Be Complicated Again.