the key went
in the lock
easily enough
with no resistance
in the cylinder
nor any loose pins
catching inside
yet try as i might
it would not turn
all three keys
were the same
identical in height
of teeth and
depth of notch
i could not have
picked the wrong one
still the deadbolt
was unmoved and
would not let me
into my own home

i watched her extinguish
one of the candles
with dainty fingertips
while i hastily blew
the other one out
with a puff of cheeks
trying to be helpful
but getting it wrong
seeing what i had done
she scalded me playfully
deep down meaning it
telling how a candle
should never be put out
in that way

for blowing it out risks
expelling the positivity
all of the happiness
that its burning
had built up for those
who first lit that wick
bathing in the glow
of its healing light
that flickering flame
that keeps our shadows
dancing together
arm in arm
even if we simply
remain wrapped up
sat side by side

i don't believe
her theory necessarily
but i am left wondering
of all the candles
i have ever blown out
birthday celebrations
cosy evenings in
candle-lit meals
if what she says is true
i can't help but think
about those moments
of happiness and joy
that i have wasted
simply blown away
with a vacant breath
and an unwitting mind

i sit on the bench
and watch him roam
free to do as he pleases
within the confines of
our fenced sanctuary
that four-legged build up
of energy and excitement
taken by a sudden burst
sniffing at the long grass
as he bounds excitedly
up down around and back
only to stop abruptly
freezing in a Pointer's stalk
until the cause of rustling
in the undergrowth
reveals itself and takes flight
leaving him to snuffle
the scents that remain
exploring deeper
he pauses and looks back
checking i am still here
making sure i know
i am not forgotten

nearly five years old
my nephew plays
with a stethoscope
a fully functioning
auscultatory device
not just some toy
of unavailing plastic
and purposeless rubber
lost to his imagination
he holds the chest piece
against my sternum
the diaphragm cold
even through my shirt
making me pull away
momentarily
out of instinct or habit
even though
it is not needed
he sits listening
concentration tight
across his brow
with very real concern
as he informs me
that he can't hear anything
that i must just have
no heart at all

knowing full well
the pain it causes
and the knowledge
that it will only
make it worse
i still bite
and pick and pull
at that jagged edge
of my finger nail;
more often than not
the finger is left
bleeding and aches
for so long after

although there are only
blue skies overhead
i can still feel
a prickling approach
of distant rain clouds
in the air

no matter how many times
i've crossed these tracks
nor how old i might now be
i will still feel
that childlike excitement
building within
as i look cautiously
left then right and
left then right again
just to be sure
before stepping across
that first metallic line
a symbol of both
danger and adventure
rechecking the signals
as i cross the second
i have never understood
what those lights tell
of the next train's progress
red yellow green
single or double
flashing or constant
no matter how clear
the tracks appear
the uncertainty of
what might soon be
unstoppably approaching
always sets me on edge
momentarily apprehensive
yet exhilarated by
each rushed step