Slippery Fingers

 Slippery Fingers

I keep letting go of things but
you always find a way 
back, a dream
finds its way to your landscape.
You reside in November 
and December. Once I kissed you
on New Year’s Day. There’s a song
I wish I had never known. A place 
I hid from you that contains echoes 
of harsh words and retorts I never made
but should have. Tears now
are all meant for then. Meaningless.

You had a stone, semi-precious, 
not beautiful, plain
to keep you safe away
from home. I had nothing but a bracelet
that broke, falling off my arm among 
American forests. A sign. A sign of what?
I thought I knew.

I keep burning things you gave me—words
too because that’s what I was told
to do. Perhaps they’ll find their way to ash
and earth and where deeper promises go.
Do you find me in places
you didn’t expect to leave me?
A hair hidden under the bed, one moved
once a year. A hair tie that slipped
off my wrist. A memory of my voice
within other English accents.
A sign. A sign of what
I still don’t know.

copyright A Head 2023. Photo by Marianna Smiley on Unsplash

Like this free poem? You can show your support by buying me a coffee @ or by buying one of my books (The Waiting Usurper, Asphodel Meadows, The Family Care). They’re available on Amazon and to order from any bookstore. They can also be borrowed via Kindle Unlimited.

Extracts are available on my website


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: