Today’s Throwback Friday poem is from February 2019, when I was preparing myself for a trip to America/New York/Philadelphia, to visit my Philadelphia “cousins”, and today, here I am on Vancouver Island visiting my Canadian “cousins”.
Dusty Passport (revised)
Here I was resting, home again from the hospital,
after a second stroke had laid me up.
I was rekindling thoughts of travelling to America —
an adventure I’d always promised myself.
Night is not always dark, you know.
Firstly, I had to find my passport.
Yes, I’d hidden it somewhere safe.
After turning the bedroom inside out,
then, throwing the lounge room upside down,
the lost document was on a garage shelf —
looking dusty, but still only five years old.
Jumping for joy, you’d think I’d found gold.
Hardly ever been stamped — a Chinese one, that’s all.
Many years have passed since my last call.
I clasped that passport firmly in my hand’
and I said, “It’s time”, before my clock runs out of sand.
Ivor Steven (c) August 2025
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 