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Better Late Than Never?
words & music Ed Hooke, July 2002    -    © Ed Hooke 2002

- about going running
(inspired to do so
by Hirva Trivedi in Mumbai)
up to Alexandra Palace park
and thinking about my life
around the time
of my 40th birthday. 

 
Shut the door behind you, then down the stairs.
Run slowly up the street in trainer-tracksuit uniform on solitary patrol.

Paying little heed to dusk's celestial peacock,,
dramatically indifferent to your disregard.

Clouds in the west are tickled pink, orange and mauve
as if the ebb-tide of the day is sucking the sky of life away from you, in your slovenly pursuit.

Stumble heavy-legged beneath a spreading blanket of vacuum blue
- azure discarded once again.

Close your eyes.
Count to a hundred
then you open them to find the other children ran away.
Now they've grown
and they've got children of their own
so you run alone.
Is it better late than never?

Sweat-heaving body finds a bench in the deserted hill-top park.
The sunshine-strollers have all gone home.
Do you always choose to run up hills or are the hills just there? - or do they choose you?

Ponder on a life that wandered lost and lonely
and staggered roundabout until it reached this place.

Close your eyes.
Count to a hundred
then you open them to find the other children ran away.
Now they've grown
and they've got children of their own
so you run alone.
Is it better late than never?

Regrets, you've had a few but then again, no-one to mention them to.
The ugly duckling became a swan but where have the others gone?
Did they fly towards the sun?

Cluck and cackle, squawk and hoot, goose, coot and mallard
glide towards their island roost as night comes down.

Close your eyes.
Count to a hundred
then you open them to find the other children ran away.
Now they've grown
and they've got children of their own
so you run alone.
Is it better late than never?

Now you've grown
and you've got children of your own
so I'll run alone.
Is it better late than never?