THE END OF GAME

THE END OF GAME

Don’t take my pauses for full-stops

I’ve walked this way before

Years ago…

Don’t take my shyness for cold

I’ve sat before this radiator

Years ago…

Your arms the cradle,

The bough unbroken

This no more the world of stamps and goods yards,

Home phones or negatives

I could you tell you all too quickly

In phonetic poetry

Warm the cup

We’ll lift ourselves out of this

Take the stock

We’ll float ourselves above this

This trust the wisdom
The confession unneeded

 - Won’t you take my nodding as rhythm?

The tiger leaps in paper frieze –

The graphic gives date

The walk gives fearling

_______________________________________

Late 2011