Pieces Of My Day

That capricious piece of green cloth

Teasingly plays on my shoulders

Threatens to fly off

To tease a stranger

To caress another face in the crowd

Or the back of a chair

Refuses to let me in peace

In its carelessness, commands me to be careful.

That piece of white paper

Borrowed in jest from a trouser pocket

Now lays on ashes of friendly cigarettes

Kissed by black ink

As my mind talks to itself,

Around me loved voices

And faces framed in smoke

The green darkness

Of a familiar old cloak, my favourite place.

That snatch of banter

A few lines of an unfamiliar song,

Face, a combination of so many emotions

Expressions, contradicting the everyday words they utter

Eyes, so earnest, vulnerable, wanting

Mocking the camouflage of everyday complacence

So open in this moment,

I catch a stranger's eye, he won't hold my stare

These pieces, pieces of my day

So incomplete,

Leave a sweet void in my consciousness

A void that awaits the next day

And it's pieces.