An alternate version of the poem “Union”.
For those I spent time with at the IOE.
Our time dims twilight as our course draws to a close.
We forecasted a spring never-ending, sharing in optimistic lies, wishing on an unlikely future forever together.
Though together we have blossomed into a family.
In our family we’re cosy, snuggling into conversations of all imagined and true. Telling stories of lives before the IOE and what lies ahead.
In our union we sit, bar staff pouring us cocktails of convivial love;
and here, in this haven of ease and education.
We sip, we talk, we soothe our tough young times;
healing us from year 9’s wrath, our mentors jibes and relentless workloads.
But time has spilled, and we’ve now outgrown our nest.
Our family intact, distant looking for room to fly.
Transformed we’ll ascend to heights un-imaged, far from the dreams conceived in our den’s supportive embrace.
In this sombre future we fear
we fear it holds friends with faces of strangers.
Where our eyes will avert scanning for gazes ulterior to the ones that once called us friend
Where we enter rooms filled with challenge and change, stripped of the respite of a Friday night, we, being held together by our group’s love.
But that is not today, now we promise bonds infinite, our family birthed through word and will.
We’ve made a home for each other in our hearts. And though these walls no longer may keep us together; our futures together are still pregnant in promise, our ties are still yet to be tested and
our family is still intact.