Splat

Eyes that swirl
and roll around a skull,
were set in motion by a 
punch thrown 20 years ago,
leaving her speechless,
and the big choices tea, coffee
and television channels.
A room too bright, too cheerful, 
as if from the pictures
paper and chintz
she'd absorbed all gloom and despair,
leaving them to dazzle there.

Occasionally there are invites,
family times,
weddings and birthdays;
days carefully planned, perfectly formed,
always molded with patience and care,
leaving somehow, somewhere,
the hands that flip and splat her future.

 

Copyright © 2003 Chris Major