There Was No Tomorrow

He’d seen a bit of tomorrow and said it was okay
But is now re-living his yesterday as the planet spins
Axially with the clock, emerging from another sunrise
Uncovering the past with the tidiness of hindsight;
Our history archived for apocalyptic review
Of all that’s said and done, but chronicled
By perfect tenses in the kindly judgements of the mind.
We live more comfortably with memories stacked,
To be taken down and relished in occasional browsing;
But less confident about a future that arrives unannounced
Though put on hold for now, zigzagging uncertainly
Across the date-line into the freedom of a new day’s beginning
And the chance to meet the one who said it would be okay,
Only to find that he was there but the day was lost.
On travelling across the international date-line.
November 2011