Andrew asks of strangers
whether they are married;
if they say ‘Yes’, he’ll ask them
who they’re married to
and if they answer ‘No’
he will ask ‘Why not?’
but if a loved one poses
‘Andrew, boy, who loves you?’
hoping he’ll come back
with ‘Mum’ or ‘Dad’ or ‘You!’
he looks away and effortlessly answers
‘Me! It’s me. I do!’
Leaving a restaurant he stalls and sings
loudly and strong
to a throng of people waiting, longing
for pizza, pepperoni. A mister
has on a hat
with candles and ‘It’s my Birthday!’ lit up.
Now all the crowd sing out ‘Happy Birthday’
and Andrew waves,
conducts a chorus extravagantly.
I bet you never saw so many smiles.
He parades aisles
winking at a mirror, giving himself the eye.
Don’t suggest a scarlet sunset
at the end of a day dropping
reaches out in heat or fiery hands
suddener than all my love for you.
Coming off a fell
at the end of an autumn walk
when kids aged 10 or under
sense there’s no more talk;
go horizontal,
roll downhill in spinning wonder.
Shout and giggle, twist
in mud and thistles, sheep shit.
Why stay with feet on the ground?
This earth is too much fixed;
so whirl the grass, kiss
the sky Old Codger stomping, stomping, stomping down.
Dawn lifts. I travel East
and frost reflects an early blue.
So much here and very little;
locomotive, pen and paper.
Across, teenagers fratch among themselves:
please don’t enter consciousness!
If so, I hope it’s him;
the one who dances wearing baggy trousers;
a boy who sings ‘Look down.
Look down. Don’t look ‘em in the eye’
and looks you in the eye.
The opening song to a great performance.
Another day;
immense adventure.
Here, now
eight pairs - sixteen feet;
black and red and green, beige.
Some of the soles are flat on the floor,
some of the uppers are nodding
or turn slow circles.
There! Ten toes poking their nose
and most of the soles are flat on the floor
but some are waving.
