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My friend David's coming out from the UK for a week in about 10 day's time. He taught in Sudan a long time ago and has spent time in much of Africa since. Recently he's hung up his desert boots and has taken to enjoying my travels by proxy. He wrote a very nice reference for me when I applied to work here and now he's coming to visit - partly to see me and partly to reminisce. After work I go into town to find the Department of Antiquities and get necessary permissions to visit the archaeological sites. As I'm a volunteer teacher they offer to do it free of charge, so I write down as many as I can think of. That's a saving of US$10/person/site and means we'll probably make an effort to see more.
From there I decide to make something of the day rather than rush home. So, I take the scenic route back to Omdurman via Tuti Island. It is all very pleasant.Somewhere along the way my mobile rings. It is an international call from a dear friend wanting to tell me she has made an important life decision and it doesn't include me. It's not that I want it to, but I feel the rejection all the same. It is kind of ironic as only this morning, coincidentally, I had written three poems for her. Oh well! That's life. Poetry Emotion
Too Late I realise, now it is too late.
I had my choice, I'll face the pain.
I have no regrets but I realise on that distant horizon,
I left behind a warm bed And a love I took for granted.
I realise that now; now it's too late.
PB 6.3.05
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