The Thrills

These are what we call The Thrills:

The effect of a balcony on the east;

A circumference and its consequences

(Imposed on tea by tea cups);

The way the ears collect the sonic booms

Of birds as they draw forth dinosaurs;

A memory of the name ‘Reginald’;

Divinity without religion;

A ketch gouging that thing that

Cannot be cut we call water;

The acceptance of perspective;

The absence of perspective from art until

The Dark Ages finally dilated the Western pupil;

The triple point of a butterfly;

A rowdy carpet worn out by ingress;

The calculus of reality;

Leaves falling into their ceramic fragilities;

The skilled use of syntax;

The sudden applause of a flock in

 Response to hair trigger imperatives;

The delicious loneliness of a pen;

The crucial redundancy of philosophy;

The male and female of a lock

Waiting to describe egress;

A book of poetry collecting positions

On the bookshelf of regrets;

The indentation that remains in a cushion;

The way now cannot become then any

More than here can become there;

The destination of your touch;

The word ‘marvellous’ learning how to walk;

The last page turned into the first at last;

The freedom of not needing freedom;

The death of ending in the imagination.

These are what we call the Thrills.

(C) N J Green