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quotient
She divided him into parts
little sums with deductions
She believed were additions
resolved him into simple elements
picking him apart like a straw man
until She could slip him into Her handbag
where he now lives with the clutter
in a broken-zipped side pocket
a husband’s paraphernalia
of lost keys and small change
mouse bones and a white feather
a leaking pen a paperclip
The flow of
light
There’s little
time for us now
now that your
life is beginning
beginning to
take shape
to be shaped by
other hands
hands held shaken kissed
waved
waving goodbye a
train taken
a leave-taking tunnels
and bridges
arriving at
destinations
unforeseen
departures stations off my map
away from the
backwater of my life
the flow of
light beckons
the dissolution
of vapour trails
in frail blue
skies
the glint of the
sun on the tracks
carried away
like a wave
the now taken
out of sight
lost to a bend
in the river
no looking back
now
a shadow falls
the sun also rises
Decaocto or how long – a story of fate
Sunlight sliding through a window
a universe of dust motes
busy as atoms colliding
a door left open
a collared dove calling
on the kitchen table
a cup of coffee cooling -
the faint tracing of steam
unspooling in fragrant air -
a piece of string a knife
