On reflection (a poem)

I started to write one poem, but it suddenly shifted gear, turning into this one.

I’m prone to talking about myself
because I don’t know anything else
and someone always asks me questions

But the conversation is disjointed
my attention flits from one thing to another
never lingering for very long

So the theme seems to be repetition
whereas I’m picking up the threads
I dropped moments ago

Sometimes they fall into another part of the conversation

Sometimes I have to untangle them first

Sometimes they fall away altogether
and then it doesn’t matter that I don’t know how to sew

(15 November 2019)

 


 

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