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Tom Nesbit

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Night Time Manoeuvres

Only the butterfly’s zigzag flight
can compare to the helpless meanderings
of silver traces, but never a sight

of the miscreant whose nocturnal wanderings
resolve in such a slithery mess
across the lawn, down the path, a disgusting

display of disrespect, but was, nevertheless
essential, for how would he know
if he’d already been or if coming back was merely a guess?

The self-contained house allows him to follow
a way of life where frosted stars
on cloudless nights were reason enough for him to go

down to the patch where tall juicy cabbages are
standing resplendent and endless feasting
seen to be easy having travelled so far.

But dawn’s early light was stalking
the path where giveaway traces
reveal the direction in which he was heading.

A small bowl of beer was the cause of his exodus.

Page(s) 36

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