Evening Comes Like a Delusion – John Tansey 

Evening comes like a delusion

With dimly lit lamps of amber, 

And just enough shadow, For 

Any ghosts you want to step out of.
The day is over, right or wrong.

Nothing more is to be asked of you.

But to dream; The expectations

That things will be better tomorrow.
Only to wake to the bleak, 

Bleary-eyed, onslaught of morning.

And its demand upon you

To walk, from dawn to dusk, 
In lockstep with the ecliptic of the Sun.

Empty Nest – John Tansey

With the boy’s room, draped in white sheets

This whole year, like a cocoon, preserved, in amber, 

She closes another album: The fossil record of their marriage, 

Steeped, in the earthen layers of clay.

Then, turning to face him, two huge land masses: 

He, the old world, she is of the new, 

And with thirty years of continental drift

Having poured an ocean between them, 

They live, now, in different time zones, 

Sleep, eat and speak in different tongues…