From Pompeii
He appeared out of nowhere and convinced me to sit with him for a drink.
His eyes were wide and glistening, his brow - of the knowledge within.
I asked him his name and where he had been living and his reply made me feel something somehow unnerving!
‘Gaius, Pompeii’ came over the table and he saw my eyebrows raise. Then, before I had chance to question he conftinued with ‘in the early days’
I thought that this joke was to see if I’d crack a smile. But then he said that the ‘ash fell like soft flakes and darkened the day into night’ he said he’d just been there to talk to a friend who he knew would die.
I asked what year this had been and his reply: ‘you think this is a lie?’
He stood and left through the front door and I followed to wish him well.
As I opened the door to the street I saw nothing of the man I’d just met. I instantly felt some sorrow and some regret.
Then a shadow commanded my eye. I approached to see the silhouette of a shaped man burnt into the wall and could not believe my sight! For a mound of pumice and warm ash was at the foot of the image burned into the wall!
I stood back and could see the silhouette of the frame of the man I’d just seen before!
Copyright © A Yorkshire Poet | Year Posted 2024
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