1.00pm Sunday

1.00pm the bell tolls

the final call is made

by your empty lungs

to leave the ocean floor

ascend the 13 metres

to surface

to breathe

to live

but… 

you choose 

one more shot

one more chase

one more chance…

and it is this decision

this flash of impulse

that now separates

us from you

that rips the fabric

of our lives

that shatters our hearts

and leaves you utterly unreachable

unknowable any longer

just memories to sometimes comfort

and other times taunt 

memories that will fade

and blur as time smudges the ink

1.00pm Sunday is the time

we will always remember

when your misty head

succumbed to the lure

that maybe you were invincible 

unlike other men

when your 21 year old confidence

pushed that bit too hard

and crossed the line

into that other realm

never to return

one brief moment of 

asserting your strength 

so inconsequential to 

the rest of the world

but for you

for us

the moment that changed everything

And now we wait for 1.00pm

each Sunday as a reminder of

what could have been

what should have been

but no longer is 

or ever can be

one simple breath

the difference between life

and this death we all now endure

7 thoughts on “1.00pm Sunday

  1. A powerful and painful meditation Andrew, thanks for sharing your journey with us, we weep with you, mourne with you as we have laughed with you over the years. May your words, help you navigate this painful journey and encourage others who follow in your wake.

  2. Hamo, I’ve always been struck by the line in the Suncreen song (Everyone’s Free to Wear Sunscreen) “4pm on some idle Tuesday” – for me it was 5pm on 18 July 2014 and 8pm Monday 22 September 2003 (among others).

    Your poetry takes us into your experience of grief and it is sheer gift, and I encourage you to keep writing. Lots of love brother.

  3. It sums up everything Andrew. You have put into words all that we feel about Sam/ This is sad but very beautiful.

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