Cross Contour Veranda Mornings

Obliquely, I part-struggled
to fathom… your indecision
… before scrying
your coffee cup…
shrugging, accepting…
and starting to disentangle.

After taking out…
Hindley’s nickname at school
was ‘Square Arse’…
from the 2nd stanza
of this semi-slate-grey poem,
I returned and put it back.

I swear I can’t quite keep up
… with your ‘Cycles’
or my notorious ‘Moods’
… my head’s always
at two different spe/EDS…
like clouds racing backdrop.

We begin to lose something
the very moment that we
slightly understand it…
we were all born ‘Grasping’
… and it never stops…
as we Adult it just changes
from ‘Hands’ to our ‘Minds’.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer, who’s currently up to his elbows in Magic, and long may it remain this way. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.