T
his poem is one of the best-read things on my site.
A poem.
White out with nuns.
You coming?
Swirling snowfall makes the world go blank
Unnavigable nothingness
And through it, the silent figures file
saying the rosary.
No, actually
Night out with mums
Cracking laughs and shaking heads by turns
Clustered round a wooden table in the pub
The bar kitty stowed in a capacious purse
Ten pounds a head we have to spend
And the evening is all ours.
Predicitve texts make poets of us all.