Thought I'd share this - I wrote it some five or six years ago - I still find it powerful; the idea of being 'worked out' by your choices..someone once said 'how we spend our days is how we live our lives', and this is true.
(after Carol Rumen's Two Women)
Daily he rises, paid thinker,
worked out. The hours take him
from the wife and children; he gives
his years to the desk, computer
screens and tanked fish.
This is his way of loving them
from a glittering terminal
eight floors high.
Coming back long after dark,
to the heat of the family home,
he brings a rolled newspaper,
the cool print a baton from his world.
That’s half the story. There’s another man
who bears his name, a dark-nailed lad
who looks for woodlice under logs
and dreams of walking on the moon.
Who longs to melt a girl
on his tongue. A true husband,
he kisses upturned cheeks and pours
a whisky for the dreaming boy.
They used to meet at night, sometimes,
his young voice called out when he came.
They’ve not touched for years -
if they did, they would kill each other.