The history of the decade begun in September, 2001, has come to a strange and unexpected sort of conclusion today. Waking to history, I was confronted with the death of the most famous enemy of America. The cheers at the death of a human - slightly vulgar - shocked me, but I also felt a curious elation at knowing that Obama had achieved what Bush did not - and some sense of closure. Unfortunately, ripples of violence seem likely - terrorism is complex, despite its seemingly simplistic message. Still, this day, May 2, 2011, is historic.
A poem for my mother, July 15 When she was dying And I was in a different country I dreamt I was there with her Flying over the ocean very quickly, And arriving in the room like a dream And I was a dream, but the meaning was more Than a dream has – it was a moving over time And land, over water, to get love across Fast enough, to be there, before she died, To lean over the small, huddled figure, In the dark, and without bothering her Even with apologies, and be a kiss in the air, A dream of a kiss, or even less, the thought of one, And when I woke, none of this had happened, She was still far distant, and we had not spoken.
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I fell asleep listening to the World Service. When I awoke, I thought that Henry Cooper had been hunted down and killed and Osama/Obama had been declared undisputed heavyweight champion of the world.
Best wishes from Simon