I thought I’d stick out another poem. I was awake for hours last night, thoughts charging around my head like wild horses. And when I finally sat down to try to get them out, I was so surprised that this is what I came up with, given that it’s old news. Or is it? Have I bubbled it through in my subconscious all this time, polishing it up? Have I had a revelation? Anyway, this is what I like to do when I’m in a funny mood – play with words on a page.

I didn’t know where to begin.
I asked the rabbit in the moon.

I can’t see her from here.
Goodness knows where I’d need to go.

I’m walking on stilts,
The ground rears up,
And there away she goes,
And I drop like a stone,
Smash like a glass,
Broken bone,
Toe after toe
Too slow
Don’t go
Don’t go.

It’s like the rolling barrel in the fairground
Except it never stops
When you get out.
I’d read about mal de debarquement syndrome
Used to worry I’d get that too
Until I realised –
I already had it long ago.
It never stops, never stops,
So why not embrace it?
Make like you’re flying
Until you can never fall.

Where’d you go?
Or were you always here?
Were we always dancing,
Always singing,
Always new?
We’ll get through,
Me and you.
No matter what you do,
I’m always staying true.
Grey sky and blue.

Because I had all these ideas,
Didn’t I?
And you believed in me,
Though we knew we’d never have time for them all.
Who even are you,
Rabbit in me?
The moon, pulling out the sea,
Exposing the flesh beneath.
My dear, we’ll be home soon,
For we live our lives on the moon.


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