On first looking into Reach Poetry

Who knows why some enthral me,

others astound me, a few knock me down,

feather-light. The mood I’m in,

my state of health, the weather,

exterior stimuli, or lack, or absence

or presence of mind, unforeseen, unwelcome

circumstances, the quiet roar

of distant traffic, helicopters

black and red and white,

the cat’s meow, the neighbours’ goss.

Some slip off my back,

over my head, between my ears,

under my very nose. Occasionally

words take flight, elude me,

tie my tongue.  Now and then

I am unable to translate

lacking linguistic niceties.  Once,

in a while, one smacks me right

in the kisser, between the eyes, grabs me

by the throat, bites and clings

like a tick on a deer and then

I wield my baton, pierce the paper,

tick, tick, tick.

First published in Reach Poetry


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