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Julia Horbaschk

By 15th July 2019March 10th, 2021No Comments
Caught beneath the Landslide
By Tim Andrews

There is a part of him in you,
There is a part of him in me;
One wanted to live,
The other to be free.

Tell them all about me he asked
But I could never understand
This man who loved her,
Until I had spoken to the hand.

He told you what he was going to do,
But he did not understand,
This man who loved you,
What lay in his hands.

If only they had waited
For each of us to grow;
If only they had waited
For each of us to know.

Each died by his own hand,
One held a cigarette, the other a gun,
She said lift your cap,
If you ever meet a nun.

And here we are the children,
I never smoked, you never fired a shot
Yet there is a part of him in us,
Which part? The part we knew not.

You have revisited his past;
Where he has stood, you stand.
I have written words;
Now we understand.

The tale of two fathers,
A tale of a girl and a boy,
A tale of friendship,
A tale of loss and joy.

There is a part of me in you,
There is a part of you in me.
Our fathers who art in heaven,
Hallowed be.

By Tim Andrews

Most of what I say is meaningless.
When I speak of me,
I speak of you,
I speak of all of us.
The day you sat in my car
And told me of the death of your father,
I felt privileged to be your friend.
In the past I saw a man kiss a woman goodnight;
I realised how little I knew.
I met a man in the street;
Your man
And I thought of your good fortune,
For that man to be your champion,
To have wooed you.
I thought of my good fortune,
To comprehend.
Most of what I say is meaningless,
But not this.