I have several things left to pack:
First, the old grey jumper.
Second, a dusty photo album.
Third, that China plate from the kitchen.

Moving through to the hallway,
I swivel on the spot.
The cat eyes me from the stairs,
Swishing his tail left to right.

I gesture to him: In childlike voice
"Don't worry I won't be leaving you".

Boxes laid at my feet, I fumble about.
What a life;
You spend most of it collecting junk;
And then you realise,
What an earth are you going to do with it all?

Leave it behind?
Chuck it away?
Chuck it away, leave it behind?
A disastrously difficult decision!
We are all sentimental someway.

The smell of cooked beef wafted from the kitchen.
Ah, home cooked meals.
I suppose it'll be takeaways soon.
Until we've settled in of course.

It's really real now isn't it?
Like a punch of reality,
Slapping you in the face.
Mixed emotions,
A bit like Sunday: You enjoy it but know that Mondays coming.

Gently, I stroked my cat.
Amongst the purring:
There came a sudden realisation,
That I had not started my list yet.

The past will bind you if you fall in regret.
The future will blind you if you heave stone-set.

To be neither here nor there
Recall from your previous presents.

And use this to bend, fold, break
Your future presents.

The past cannot be mended, but will be studied.
The future cannot be changed, but will be guided.

be a holiday
ill be a presley
we can dance at the cabaret
waiting for dawn to greet us gently

sway your hips
in motion with mine
we'll tremble and move
all to the time
of the beat of the band
boy, aren't they grand?
let the music die away
let neon, unravel and fray
i'm happy to just shake if you'll stay
just hold my hand
let's run away

Call me what you want
Call it timing
Call it coincidence
Call it Murphy's Law
Call this whatever you need so we can move on