James Walton #25 Kettle is Boiling Away, Again

Kettle is Boiling Away, Again

It’s like holding on to a melting beehive

arms stretched about the soldering embrace

songs are catching between fingers

that cannot recall keys to locations

as Gethsemane gardens collapse

to marshmallow in chocolate.

Larvae floats from a pharmacist’s ink

upside down wings on the crossword clue

harbouring the lazy susan fondue relic

forking over mementos friends left

earlier in those rampant evenings

spilled skittering legs bent for the anvil.

A  tune from a stranger’s warble

returns the gift wrapping

sound comes before words of lightning then thunder

was it tea or coffee for you

whistles the answer to the voice in the well

pulls the hoist all the way to another betrayal.