And Here We Are

And I remain here in our world of blood-red tomatoes and earthy spices,
Willing for change and new routine and otherness,
I can be a sentinel for others' attraction
and a beacon of rest for the grieving faction.
But I know what I am not
and who I have not.
Everyone else remains here in our world of barking dogs and carrier bags,
Scuttling, targeting, oblivious to who they have lost,
Maybe wilful ignorance helps navigate
the risks of daily comfort.
Maybe they do not want
what they have not got.
The children that know lived through homework and after-school clubs,
Their fortitude bolstered by potential and by childish romance,
Maybe distance has dulled the sharpness
and youth is resilience.
They can survive painlessly
wanting what they don't have.
But she doesn't remain in our world of red tomatoes and earthy spices,
Of barking dogs and homework and after-school clubs.
Of sentinels and beacons and places of rest
Of daily comfort from those who give peace.
There she is,
and here we are.