The Poem That Started At The End

          
         
         
(i)          
Yours Sincerely          
Yours Faithfully          
Kind Regards          
         
Never          
a lover of traditional          
conclusions          
in written  
correspondence          
They're rather          
un-loving          
un-thought          
un-imaginative          
         
(ii)          
I am enjoying          
the spring-breeze          
two weeks early;          
the patio feels safe          
and blossoms          
are starting a life  
         
Double whiskey          
melting ice          
in glass swirls     
between savoured sips          
and moments of thought          
         
(iii)          
Spring
officially starts          
September first          
-this year is difficult       
it coincides          
with the first anniversary          
of my father's death          
         
He would sing a song          
as grass blades          
poked their tips, to heavens          
sharing the green tint          
in their eyes...     
         
"Spring has sprung          
the grass has ris          
I wonder where the birdie is"          
         
(iv)          
Enthusiasm
to tell the story          
hovers heavily in          
conscious hearts          
         
Yet no story          
has had value          
without a beginning          
-a once upon a time          
or there lived a woodcutter          
or on the day that          
         
How would you begin this story?          
         
(v)          
The short          
African man          
took words to the page          
         
swirling his          
whiskey          
         
in longing          
for something          
he held  
so dear          
         
that fear of its collapse     
breathed apnea      
         
         
  -x-