A Birthday Poem



It is strange: knowing you are there, nearer home than here, which is after all home, but almost a world away. In point of fact, here you’re definitely not there, but sometimes you’re not really here either. Not in your heart of hearts. Mind you, I can understand why. I suppose there are many many times that you are there when you are here. And it doesn’t help when people go ‘there there’, because you might not want to be there there, you might want to be here here or you might want to be a bit there or a bit here: a kind of cosmopolitan here there. The main thing is that no-one is nowhere, you’re always somewhere. Here, there … or thereabouts.


Andy Daly 2013