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written by: Ian Fletcher


It’s come full circle
as we meet again
at long last
our youth’s blood
now all spent
achieving what?

The past is a dream
the future an illusion
meaningless lines
that do not rhyme
the here and now
a mere moment
evaporating in time.

Ian Fletcher

Ian Fletcher

Born and raised in Cardiff, Wales, Ian has an MA in English from Oxford University. He lives in Taiwan with his wife, two daughters and cat. He teaches English in a high school. He has had poems and short stories published in Duane’s PoeTree, Tuck Magazine, Best Poetry, The Ekphrastic Review, 1947 A Literary Journal, Spillwords Press, Dead Snakes, Your One Phone Call, Schlock! Webzine, Short-story.me, Literary Yard, Indian Periodical, Anotherealm, Under the Bed, A Story In 100 Words, Poems and Poetry, Friday Flash Fiction, The Drabble, and in various anthologies.
Ian Fletcher

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