if you're like me… by Simon Alderwick



if you're like me…


you have often thought,

when you see a mountain,

that you would like to live

in the mountains;


in a shack made of wood

on the edge of a sheer drop.

you'd sit on the balcony

in the mist of the morning.


you'd have a small, scruffy dog

and a walking stick.

both of you older

than boulders.


and when you were gone

like the morning fog

they'd wrap you in rags.

you'd hang from the side of a cliff


with a wooden chair

strapped beside you,

the old life behind you.

the occasional visitor


would sit there a while

like a memory in the mind.

then, like a bird,

they'd be gone.





Simon Alderwick is originally from England but currently lives in the Philippines. His poetry has appeared in Magma, Ink Sweat & Tears, Acid Bath, Broken Spine, Acropolis, Black Flowers and Anthropocene, among others.