Myths like yesterdays
hide in a cave on some
Greek isle.

we play canasta
it makes time go faster
but the journey always
slows us down.

The streams that we once paddled in
have dried up and have been filled in
making mockery of childhood plans,
Now
superstores and market vans delivering new sets of plans.

Let Minotaur come take this son and chomp upon these bones.

It's okay 'cause it's Monday and there's ploughing needs be done,
see
even furrows in the field run far away
like yesterday sat hermit in its cave

who will save me?

Someone gave me sixpence
( past tense )
a Christmas dream that dries up
like the river and the stream.

Taking a hard look at the secondhand paperback book from the charity shop
I read on
but it's all gone
and we know it.