Happy Happy Sad. Repeat.
6th March 2009
Looking out through my reflection
I hear the pride of the Robin,
chest puffed into the early sun.
Below fevered Sparrows strip-mine
last years leaves into untidy slag.
A weary Gull struts centre stage and
the heavy footed dance begins;
hobnails softened on the heads of worms.
Dark under Rhododendron cover Boris
watches all with a commando crawl,
a black cloud oozing forward as
whiskers whip back the crowds.
A disgusted banging razes all hope;
only still and silent remain whilst
the warm imprint of the hand of God
fades slowly inwards from the sky.
In the bathroom I shave the frown
from my face; lighter now that
I don’t see myself staring back.
Outside, courage tickles away
tightness from bellies as
they lurk outside my world.
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