Thoughts by the East River

I.

I find four lines of deep maroon

That wrap around my wrists.

I think I’ve left my watch too tight;

I take it off, relieved to hear the ticks

Fade off to silence.

II.

I’ve always found fluorescent lights

Will make a room feel sterile.

But moths like me, we flock to them:

The way they hum and flicker blue

Reminds us of the moon.

III.

The deep red marks have faded now;

My mother took my watch from me.

She said that it was small and loud.

She isn’t wrong.  I’d rather be

Away from constant noise.

IV.

I told him to come over soon

But Peter’s always late.

I put a wine glass where he’s sat

The last few times and pray to God

The chicken won’t get cold.

V.

My hamster died some years ago:

We put her in the river.

We had no ground to make a grave

And so to save the trouble

We just buried her at sea.