Random Stopping

It can be dangerous when the car in front

randomly stops – or comical when a teenager

- walking up the stairs – stops dead

in tracks because a bleeping text came in

and you say ‘Sorry’ as you crash her rucksack.

It’s weird, because a voice inside desires

that we ‘Keep trucking! Keep on keeping on!’

resists an awkward, random stop.

This energy’s the kind that Bannister

used in his first four minute mile – the kind

that every lover sometimes needs to find.

Random stopping never seems a good idea

- ever – definitely not on an escalator

or motorway and Philip Larkin

bluntly knew how many things we talk

about just never happen. He also said that

this one will.

An Angel

is defined in my little on-line

dictionary as a heavenly

being, guide or guardian; more

than google, a glossy magazine,

radio or TV blinking

and ‘omen’ as a prophetic sign

or signal from the Mystery,

Beloved, God or Allah.

Of course, the ancient days are gone

when we believed in angel-notes from

Mother Nature - such as shapes

in leaves or whether birds appear

to fly, uplift and honk along together.

Today I almost saw a kingfisher

catching silver from water in a

river flowing back to where I

came from. Time passes, turns;

of course those days are gone.

Today, for the Down’s boy.

knowing that, sometime soon, you’ll both need to exit a closed door

and, outside, are hoodlums, thugs, dogs and loud bangs;

the best idea is to sit still (mum) and hope.

Andrew is humming a song from ‘Joseph’, looking around

at the TV unplugged and the Macbook (out of battery by now).

After a while, the crashes return and men bark even louder.

Andrew jumps - and shouts – you quieten him,

rising your terror from belly to throat, quivering fingers;

but he keeps rocking and singing, looking around, crooning gently

‘I closed my eyes – drew back the curtain.’ Melodic, softly,

until one big crash on the door becomes immediate ‘I closed my eyes…’

Andrew smiles, goes to the door-handle, turns it slowly.