Life’s a wander ’round the harbourside.
Will it be as the still air?
Three, four, and an Oxford comma.
Beneath the raised voices sinks the sound of someone leaving…
It’s a long, long way away,
no matter how you hold it.
Perhaps you know it all already. Do you?
Five to open.
This is the present moment.
Anyone for a haiku?
As if a separate, other person
lived a separate life…
Don’t let them fade.
A million seeds, a million more:
the boy-child sown and scattered.
The same big band, the same man’s voice.
I need to learn to look, to gaze, at the pitch
of the passing ‘tween the tunnel’s either end.
Time-warped scraps – the dream continues on,
unphased by the approaching of its limits.