You are a God of small things.
Snapped shoe laces, the sticking utensil drawer
Outreaching arm over the cold side of the bed
Watching the bus you’re meant to be on go by
(and the one after that)
Siren chaser, conflict avoider, the job I don’t want to go to much today
What I needed to bring and forgot,
What I wanted to say but didn’t
(the stupid thing I say instead)
You – in my fears, real or imagined
You – my consolation and my comfort
You – there always in all things
You
Talitha Fraser