There’s a feeling I get sometimes
A bit like a sight and a bit like a sound
Or a ghost of these or a smudge at most
As colours merge on the hard wet ground

It’s like autumn satchels heaving
Slooshing through leaves on the way back home
Collecting conkers and going bonkers
It stings like nostalgia, a hair-tugging comb

It’s like mum calling “Teatime!”
Up the stairs and down the years
It’s like hearing old Rex barking
Grabbing his great big floppy ears

It’s like carefree uni mornings
With a crispness in the air
It’s like waking up and seeing
Sunlight playing in her hair

It’s my early days in Paris
Half a lifetime down the road
Slushing through snow on the way to work
No cars, no cares, no fixed abode

It’s like the shifting of a weight
It’s like a partly fulfilled bribe
It’s like the lifting of a veil
It’s really tricky to describe

This feeling’s feeding on the past
And flooding from the future too
Like an elusive melody, it’s saying:
“This tune’s up to you”