for Danny
I walk with you in this old maze
of mirrors the one we whacked up
before the wars of
ants
and infiltrates began we
map out load-bearing
themes
the one-joke wonders pile up on the verge
everyone’s forgotten
the ground that lies
beneath
the grass we once
spread out on
laughing or were they cobbles
and did our heads go crack
Just read this several times, Kerri. Brilliant poem. Thank you. That "ground that lies beneath" is hard, sometimes soft - and hard to guess based on appearances. Our heads will go crack a lot. If we're lucky we don't pile up: we get up and go on.
ReplyDeleteThank you Rob, I read it to Danny this morning before posting. Moving piles around it’s hard work. Xxx
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