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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Apr 2019
40 winks
Ear popping
carriage hopping
this tube seems like
it's never stopping
at my stop.
I'm tired
and when tired
I
get cranky.
My sight become focused
and yet
I
cannot see,
that's what being cranky
does and it does it to me.
In the slow unwind
there is
or so
I
find
a release of tension,
lines blur
when I know that
I'm near
or
when I'm nearly there.
Getting old holds terrors,
cranky being one of them
I could end up becoming
one of those
cranky old men
and
that'd never do.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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