In its absence is its presence.

Breath. Beats. Meaning.

They make so much of

Near Death Experiences – 

tunnelled light, converged time,

out of the body, into past lives…

No, none of that for me.

Just a void, devoid

of thought, then a memory

hitting the ground.

I’m 10, at school, in Delhi,

grey shorts, self-checked

white shirt

running along 
boundaries of a football field 

Someone trips me
I start my fall

in anticipation, fear:

the muddy clothes, bruised knee,

the telling off at home.

I’m 46, mid-air, in London,

the road, a thud, the bounce.

In its absence is its presence.

Breath. Beats. Meaning.