DISTANCE
Distance
The tube stopped
They loaded us unto a bus.
It was a long journey
With no breakfast.
Luggage like a baby carriage
When I lay it to rest, I’ll be carrying baggage.
But I made it:
Got a Heathrow salmon sandwhich
Changed my pounds and euros into Canadian
Hands full, boarded.
I stared out the airplane window
Imagined: boy or girl? On the tarmac.
No doubt, big brown eyes
Thick, chocolate locks – reminds.
But it’s your mother, father, uncle
Sister – brother?
Who wouldn’t know
The secret (mine wouldn’t care less).
And nephews with a cousin
In Canada
They wouldn’t know
How could I do this to them?
These things flew from my head.
If my life was different
If I had been better treated
I could believe a kid with one parent
Might grow up feeling needed.
But I feel deeply
And I would hurt intensely
For every minute the kid
Wanted to know his father deeply.
A mother and a kid
Should not bond on this!
There was no distress.
Only action, swift.
I had 72 hours in which the plan would be most effective.
In 12, I had it sorted; jetlagged, time difference.
Travelled from England to Canada across the Atlantic –
Thinking: can I go the distance?
I did not go the distance…
Yes, I told your friend all this.
I never heard from him or you again.
The tube stopped
They loaded us unto a bus.
It was a long journey
With no breakfast.
© Sylvie Hill 2013
ART: dixon / “Go the Distance” / 21x30cm / spray paint and acrylic on paper / 2010