time-stitch

nine arrowed together by lovers

in unusual hours no matter when

at coffee, lunch, tea, day, night

slipping through urgent fingers

grasping at sand they have to make up

for these unaccounted moments

they could not let pass without finding out

knowing full well each tide runs after

catching breath in liquid seconds

on the turn before its ebb

never coming back the same

understanding what has passed between them

were not seconds wasted waiting

for some non-existent tomorrow

~

n.b. NaPoWriMo 2021 Day Twelve

CLP 12/04/2021

Do Not Alight Here…

…the sign on the platform read

provoking that bloody-minded reaction

he saw as proof of living a life

still worth it, worth everything

worth going to bed

with a stranger once more

here might be the place

that could throw things up

burn the throat, whet the tongue

revive, refresh, rekindle

the screech of parakeets

colonising plane trees in the park

after-dark sounds on full reverb

in daylight on streets

of colour, black to white all blood

everyone from anywhere

who’ll do something, anything

no more bi this

no more buy that

stop and search me, why don’t you

I’m game as road-kill

as smart as street crime

as sharp as a wife

given half-a-clue to step out

and start out anew

~

n.b. NaPoWriMo 2021 Button with white background Day 3 here is how the cards fell when I cut the deck: whet, game. (For TC).


NaPoWriMo

~

CLP 03/04/2021

L3 (Day 76): Holt

Are these people showing off about not having Covid, or has the local sub-editor got a sick sense of humour, riffing on the vulnerability of olfactory and gustatory senses in these coronavirus times?

Here, there is a growing feeling of cabin fever mixed with de-mob happiness. Is the prima donna yet ready for la grande finale?

~

CLP 23/03/2021