You push me under
the river water,
the rumble strip,
the war-torn manger.

Appear on the small screen,
you slow me down
in this inch-drawn recovery.
We are still human.
Still human.

You pin me down
to distant dreams,
to the patient quick,
the train-stop silence.

Appear in the doorway,
the hangman's wedding;
homeless ribbons and bows
for the missing persons of the world.

You gave us our depression.
We wore it as a badge of honour.

You keep me far
to relinquish confusion,
a hall of mirrors-
empty basket in the bulrushes.

Appear as a melody
spinning loops through my wrists,
a one-way confession-
loose confetti, falling ash;
ash after ember,
warmth after rain.