Catch Me If You Can

As I continue to collate all of my writing from over the last 40+ years, I keep coming across pieces that I don’t remember writing, or where my head was, in that moment in time.

This one dates back to 1994. I was still dealing (reeling, more like) with the death of my dad, the year before. That was the year that we moved to Gloucester from South Wales, but I honestly wasn’t there all that much. I’d been given a big opportunity to lead a global project in 1993 (as DuPont was digesting its acquisition of ICI Fibres), and as part of that, I was traveling to the US every 6 weeks, and staying there for 1-2 weeks at a time.

Throwing myself deep into my work was always my way of handling loss or pain in my personal life, and I think that at the time of writing, I was excelling myself at doing that. On the outside, I appeared to be on top of the world, but on the inside, I was desperately treading water.

Catch Me If You Can

Catch me if you can
I’m the voice as you replace the receiver
I’m the shadow at your door
Catch me if you can
I’m the hairs on the back of your neck
I’m the echo in the hall

You don’t know me
But then I don’t know you
But I make a habit of it
I don’t know anyone
Not in the biblical sense
Not in any sense
Not that that makes sense
But it does to me

Catch me if you can
I’m the unfamiliar face
I’m the name you can’t place
Catch me if you can
I’m the one that if you remembered
You would only want to forget

You don’t know me
But then I don’t know you
But I am everywhere
When I’m least expected
At the least expected times
But if you were to want me
You wouldn’t find me
Like Mona Lisa’s smile

© Robert Ford 1994