As Sunday Ends

There (really) is sometimes
a melody to madness
… cats hear it,
and wait apprehensively
… whilst magpies
adore its depth,
and possible,
impending, carnage.
She turns away from games,
in a swift arc…
and I trouble myself,
to move beyond
the ‘square’
set with my name upon it.
The ‘past’ eats footsteps
no longer needed…
and the ‘future’
refuses to follow anyone.
I know that you can’t see it,
but, there is a ‘ship’
which I am guiding
into an undisclosed harbour
… there’s Triumph
awaiting, and BIG
Emotions… let… loose.
The last ‘sacrifice’
is almost spent…
and we’re already
shuffling a brand new deck.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer who deals in the Lowlife, Outsider, and Outlaw genres.  He wrote his first poem as a teenager following his release from the (Infamous) Borstal ‘HMP Portland’, and he has been creating Literary Terrorism ever since. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.