…and curse
Its tendrils
Are coaxed
By a smell
Or a cast of light
A time of year
Or a ritual.
Without warning
You’re there
And then

Christmas with loved ones
The pain of separation.
Patterson’s poetry
Read with passion
I can feel
Almost 50 years later.
Travelling overseas.
Waling at night
In summer
Growing up.

But don’t get stuck.
This moment
Whether it is
The warmth of the sun
A laugh with a friend
Or a hug
From your special someone.
To know
You’re home
Here and now

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