Saturday, April 9

See Come Find Me

See come find me, you,
between Bow bells
& the quiet coffeeshop

where waitresses gasp
saturday afternoon sighs
& yellow fingers ish

over notebooks &
slow movements. I am
lanced in the grey

pavement, italic;
but stiff for wind & for you
, my grace quite haiku

see come find me,
you. These cumulus arms
of bouquet blossom

are almost overburdened
( but I’ve worked-out)
ready for showtime,strong

See come admire me,
you, how these cumulus arms
drop not a speck of their

decoration down to
the pavementhungrygrey
but hold on, hold on

before green leaves
unshrivel and on me for
summer stay.


  1. Every time I come back here, you've written a selection of poems that are even better than the last ones. Damn. I hope you've been well. I managed to get two small poems of mine published a while back in an anthology put out by a friend's small press. I should send you a copy. I've almost finished with university, too. One more year!

  2. Thank you, Jamie. I am trying to get better at poems. Sometimes it is easy, sometimes it is not.
    Congratulations. Send me an e-mail, let's get a correspondence going; I'd like to see those poems.
    PS Thank you for commenting. People don't nowadays.


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