How We Met

I very much dislike being at a buffet

The first time I saw
the little man in the radish swing
swinging out over the vegetable tray
was himself a radish,
I was happy

I would be happiest if there were
a whole village of radish people,
as many radish people
as there are buffet people
I hope for each radish person
a ‘sister person’ in the room

I am half radish myself

Some say the best thing you can do
is carry a pair of little scissors,
snip small pieces of the world
and take them home with you

These scissors have cut hair
The scissors have cut string
From these scissors come my fragments

You can cut a rose from a radish
or little people who are happy swinging
in a room of bigger people, the excited throng
cut from cloth

At the banquet I stood next to him
When I pushed the swing he smiled at me
Fast friend are the best
It is good to have a bunch of them

We each chose a piece of
preposterous melon and
for the sake of a little quiet
removed the seeds

You see?
From radishes come joy

Golden Crumbs

Ever, when the two ladies were having a quiet cup of tea in the great, big, uncomfortable drawing-room on the first floor, with its conventional wilderness of chairs and silly little tables laden with uninteresting bric-a-brac, they heard the front door bell ring, and began to speculate who the visitor might be. Week after week, on a Tuesday a little after four, the bell rang once and once only, there was silence thereafter, and as the years passed the two ladies came to regard this event as the great mystery of their lives.

Softly, Very Softly

One of the loveliest possibilities
is that the truth is made of glass
but shaped like a hammer
by using it you’ve broken it
think of it! & it lies broken
at your feet not in your hands
never can you hold it, lassie
it will not come back
but there it is, verily
no matter what matter is
wonderful quiet white clouds
in the night sky

Photograph © James St. John