I stumbled across this beauty of a poem today. I found it completely arresting. At first it felt sad, but then I remembered that it’s sometimes these tiny glimpses that prompt action to change something… or gratitude for what the settling has given us.
The Price by Stuart Henson
Sometimes it catches when the fumes rise up
among the throbbing lights of cars, or as
you look away to dodge eye-contact with
your own reflection in the carriage-glass;
or in a waiting-room a face reminds you
that the colour supplements have lied
and some have pleasure and some pay the price.
Then all the small securities you built
about your house, your desk, your calendar
are blown like straws; and momentarily,
as if a scent of ivy or the earth
had opened up a childhood door, you pause,
to take the measure of what might have been
against the life you settled for.
(found in The Poetry Pharmacy edited by William Sieghart)
