A Poem

Chris Noonan


Is it done
Did they close the door
And move on?

They promised us forgiveness
If we gave them room to see
And swore to leave them well alone
As they rummaged through our lives

Whirling they arrived
Spilling papers from empty trays
Spreading secrets on the floor
Parting curtains drawn against the glare
Banishing shadows put there,
By angry men too old to care
Too grey and feckless to learn to share
What was only known in circles
That lingered long beyond the end
Refusing to fade away

In rooms lit dimly
By spilt light falling down the stairs
Memories piled in broken heaps
All fingers toes and cigarette stubs
No place for the meek
New faces every week

We took our empties with us
No need to draw alarm
And stumbled home before the dawn
To kiss our loved ones on the cheek
Innocence left to sleep

They did their work
Uncovering the truth
Bearing witness to our deeds
But some light is too bright to bear
And ends smothered in the weeds

Are they done
Is it time to close the door
And put away the key
Or are there corners yet to search
Still voices yet to hear?

are you done

© Chris Noonan Thank you for reading.