There was a programme on TV last night called 'Destination Lost'; basically a recap of the first series of 'Lost' and a preview of the second series. I had intended watching it; but it wasn't broadcast until eleven o'clock...and by ten thirty I was feeling tired and so went to bed.
I'm really looking forward to Series Two of the programme. Of course, here in Britain we're among the last to see it.
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Another batch of poems written yesterday.
MAP OF THE BALKANS
We shall not shake hands:
Back in your youth
That is your affair
But here, towards me
And my world
- All that's mine.
MUSIC DANCING ON MY EAR
Returned once more,
So near at times
As if revived from death
- Although it seems so far;
A last bequest.
AND THE WEATHER'S BAD
Closer the earth
She's wandering in
Where as a child
I'd clutch her skirt
Until I'd leave:
- From furthest awhile
Her window's empty
Her weeping ever again;
Says, "Please."