Climbing the stairs 
Finding your seat 
I’m here  
A home for the evening 
The theatre of Lords 
Under floodlights 
The white ball swings 
And the clock ticks 
And the wind slips 
Between cracks in the seats 

The chase is on 
70 from 50 
To be out there 
Bearing the pressure 
Rising to expectation 
What if 
Those hopes of youth 
Had become truths 
What then?
Who then?

Dreams are just that 
Of hope
My envy 
Recedes into gratitude 
For lost ambition 
Making way for love
And company 

As we scatter out of the ground 
Along the road 
Through the station 
And into the tube 
I pause 
My camera snaps 
And I am overcome   
Thankful the stars 
Aligned themselves 
Without my doing