Read other Poems of the Week
Sipping coffee outside the café
Three creams, no sugar
Sharing an insipid pastry
Listening to your complaints
Framed by some bad classic rock song
In which the singer wonders where love went wrong
But it always goes wrong
Glancing at my turgid silhouette on the brick
I remember how I used to be fascinated
By the inscrutable nature of scarecrows
Expecting them to move with skeletal energy
Traipsing through a morass of autumn undergrowth
I shield my face from a blinding grist of leaf fragments
The motif is ensnared in fractal pageantry
But I can't remember the formula that unlocks its secrets