The tide slips backwards.
The ripples circle inwards.
Memory is shifting.
Photos on the wall.
Music is playing
The noise of a party.
Voices I once knew.

The river flows away.
The rain falls upwards.
The room once warm is now cold.
Childhood toys,
Are scattered on the floor.
The sun rises and glistens.
Through the window
Of the living room.
Where my father sits.

The tears flow upwards.
The sink fills downwards.
The cat once found is lost.
There is laughter.
I listen from my room upstairs.

August becomes July.
The clock chimes five then four.
The shed becomes a greenhouse,
We all sit on the bench.
There is more laughter
But I’m not there.

Old grows young.
The puddle sinks upwards.
The beach once full
Is now empty.
I remember this beach.
I should never have come back.

The robins disappear.
The sun rises from the west.
I am watching through
The bars of my cot.
I hold on to them
And I won’t let go
I won’t let go.