Cold and thursday tea-time
home from a sombre
around town misery of
non descript blandness,
where even the string tied
bones of a beggars dog
snarled at a fifty pence.
I fell to a relaxation of hot tea
to find my mind taking
unfamiliar footsteps back
to where she left that tremor
of lipstick upon my cheek
the night before.....
....not everything runs
along rails of expectation.
Though a steady shadow of
disappointment had been
teasing the rude creativity
of an unquiet mind
for what now occurs
surely must have been a
juncture passed long ago
within the soup of everyday
band-aids placed upon a
fading bond of yesterday.