Oh, Deer!

on the way from here to there

on my mind you were somewhere

with a fleeting thought you passed

could have gotten lost, it did not last

time, and the image breaks in shards

memories from far away in old postcards

telling me “there-there, we’re having fun”

it’s the holidays and now they’re done

as I find you once again, you die away

pause, I forget myself and what’s to say

…you’ll come running, circling, back around

gone, on a vacation, and I make no sound

round and round, in and out of sight and mind

you’re there, far away, and i’m still left behind

will you write? will you tell me where you are?

across the table, zoning out, but we seem far...

dear, “will you say something, please?”

a spotlight on and things appear to freeze.

(London, 25th August 2025, Bank Holiday)