Tuesday, 27 November 2012


The first word of any new day
could maybe be yes or maybe no;
both words seem equally valid
reactions to onrushing light.

Maybe look romantically back to yesterday’s love
or glance for tomorrow and hyena laugh:
inexorable fate is pushing through now;
growing from substances, maybes and dreams.

Maybe laughter is tearful and ugly's a beauty
- something is nothing – and maybe we’re falling
conscripted by newness, up, into destiny;
hello and, well, thank you, maybe today.

1 comment:

  1. My daughter wakes up nearly every day and exclaims what kind of day it's going to be...good, bad, otherwise, she always has a feeling about it.