If the wind
says anything at
all it whispers 
beware the promises 
of strangers for 
they become storms
of such strength 
as to rattle 
even the strongest 
of them all

A tickle
tackles me
like gaggles
of giggles 
and winks
wing it
when kisses
miss from 
the Mrs 

If I 
know anything 
it’s that 
I don’t 
know anything 
at all
and that
this then
made everything 
else possible 

Just noise 
this everyday 
a cricket 
that follows 
incessantly chirping 
come and 
find me 
be gone 
little friend 
haunt some 
other person 
with your 
melody of
broken promises 
served up 
and sung
as memory

Maybe I should 
just delete them 
vestiges of past
caught posed and 
proper or casual 
and capricious let
them all go 
after all these
pictures which used
to speak a
thousand words have 
all gone silent