No plan

 

 

Tick tick tick

 

He planted his explosives

And blew up his life

There was no flash

No boom

Just the slow motion dispersal

Of flying shrapnel

The detritus of fifty years of accumulation

Books and records

Pots and sofas

Moving away from him in all directions

Thrown to the winds

Leaving him little more than his shirt

And a handful of photographs

To remember the life he’d so cavalierly demolished

He felt lighter (not surprisingly)

And less rooted

Aware that his armour was now gone

His heart had already left to start his new life

The rest of him had been tasked

With cutting all ties

Mission accomplished

He mused at the center of the crater

Then he walked away from his familiar world

Towards the far horizon.

 

 

 

 

©2017

 

 

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2 thoughts on “No plan

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