Skating on thin ice mirrors
Watching me drowning slowly
Beneath the surface.

I have hold of a thread between
Me and me.
Empty bean can telephones
Listening to the uncertain silence static
For Mary’s little lamb from the other.

I slip the ice to land
Shadow leant against me,
The hands of a moon face clock
Waiting for the Earth to turn us
A flower that wasn’t there
Yesterdays’ further forward
Of last nights part of our life.