I committed poetry. I apologise.
Not There
by Neil Beynon
Petals fall as rain—
bronzed leaf, surfing the gust’s dance.
Seed soft under foot.
Jack’s spider spins long—
daffodil dreams quicken the dark.
A web grown too wide.
Sky spills light at lost gold—
clouds weep. A dance not begun,
of a boy not there.
***
It falls some way short of what I was going for, as these things so often do, but I felt it should put it somewhere to draw a line under it. Such as it is.