dead ends

lost day of mazes and
dead ends, small paths
led into the undergrowth
and all the signs pointed
the other way

the weather couldn't stay
for five minutes, it was
too busy turning into
something else before my
eyes, then turning back again

calls into the distance
came back as empty echoes
no-one was there - all my
words bounced
hard on concrete and
came up short

no forward, no back, no
side-to-side, the glass
partitions were hard:
nowhere to hide

hands and mind and
body worked together
running to stand still

Collected Works
Return to Collections all
next poem