Journey out of Sussex
“So here I am, homeless at home.”
John Clare – Journey out of Essex.
Just too easy,
this short drive to my childhood
up the A21.
Otford village: bright, windswept;
people, cars – but strangely empty;
my parents’ house, long-since sold.
Poor John Clare – deranged –
escaping the Essex Asylum, walking
for days to seek his early home,
a childhood sweetheart – six years dead;
not recognising his wife, refusing
Maybe I, too, am deluded in expecting more –
a long-lost love,
arms wide in recognition?
Like him, perhaps, I’m blind to something else –
an unrequited yearning that lingers here
and must be laid to rest?