To Feel It's Too Late

A Poem

The rainy day bookstore cafe
Heard conversations of friends
Catching up overlooking Oxford
Young mature beautiful women
I examine my new book haul
More shelf comfort just in case
Reading the poet's biography
Beloved she achieved so much
And her vivid words speak loud
Grabbing at me with her gifts
Then stopping my fatal glance out
Out across to where Ariel stood
Violating her poetic mindful present
Looking back I deep-stared long too
Back to the ugly landfill of despair
Depression's microplastic clogging
Anxiety's backstreet gangland flight
The long years of my dismal ennui
So much then missed misunderstood
Imagined dreams of a lived life
Words conversations friends loves
Relief from the daytimes mundane
To feel it's too late whilst fading
Perhaps realisation itself the fading
Returned I pick up my comforting pile
Notice the pretty friend's parting smile