6 pm pyjamas

Oscillate I oscillate between knowing and not knowing You hold the truth and did not choose to share But now the revelation comes late in the day But it comes, bright and charging into my life News from the past, precious nuggets offered For the future Important.  Possibly.  Unknown.

Holy silence splashing macaw leaves Falling characters beat a march Drifting, transcendental in dilute sun Autumn traffic meets misty dissonance

Rhubarb Rhubarb crimson rush blush Nonsense over-analysing backwards Pick me up and throw me down Making sense is not needed Spinning leaves smoothing the path Black clouds of gibberish Rhubarb.

This isn't a hook up There is a semblance of a relationship Nobody will know Who will care but me This isn't a hook up There is a semblance of a relationship Something I can tell my friends They will believe me and be happy That wasn't a hook up There is a semblance of a relationship She's forgotten my number Left it at the bottom of her bag She will be surprised at my message Left in her bedroom Scrawled on her mirror Now she has my number And I have hers

Questions Who are you How am I Where are we What are you doing What am I doing What are we doing How did we get here I want to go home

It's Sunday night; here comes a cinquain. Lions Wild eyes Danger lurking Swift claws biting deep Stealth shadows twisting behind grass Hungry

Cheerio She says cheerio   As though she intends to return The avoided glance suggests otherwise The missed kiss a suggestion That the thing that was wrong That thing which cannot be defined Aparently That I cannot fix because Because Is lingering and biting still.