THEN CHARLIE'S THERE

I have been revising a poem that I posted a couple of weeks ago. Time does grant perspective. That and the help of the Secret Poets, to whom I say thank you for your kind observations and suggestions.

I am sure that you think I am an old record, with a needle stuck in a scratch, when I keep stressing the importance of revisiting and revising your work. There is no greater advice I can give.

CHARLIE

Wiped from a migraine,

jingled nerved, scratchy skin,

I'm dealing with the July sun,

morning, driving south.

Then Charlie's there,

and him near six months dead,

but still, here's Charlie in the car.

Light pours through him, from him.

I talk about nothing,

as we did those nights,

a malt in hand and a record on. 

I drive the Sunday traffic,

in no hurry, Charlie smiles.

Exeter eventually.

I tell him I need a ticket

return to an empty car.

As you can see the spacing has changed and two lines have been removed. This is why it is always a good idea to put a poem away for a couple of weeks. 

I leave you with Chip Taylor Singing The Last Video.