Street scene (May 15)

In unison they commence
this daily waltz, slowly
lured in by some silent magnet
to this well-trod dance.

What physics can explain this
daybreak convergence,
exponential congregation of
flapping legs and masked faces:

eyes forward, never turning
once to see beyond their spheres,
lonely atoms blind to their
bonds drawn only onwards

as if once locked in this
steel capsule, only for one moment
they might turn off the world,
shelter within internal monologue

before sun-muted, at once day is
rewinding? Magician-quick it
folds away, replaces its pieces
in position for tomorrow’s encore.

Glass (May 8)

Wraps up, conceals, sequesters a hundred private worlds
in cellophane birdcages whose silent screens
project and magnify startled occupants:
accidental recruits for daybreak pantomimes.

Divides and shatters all with raging force:
a humourless warrior cleaving foes
in twain with pitiless, guillotine edge
enforcing the final separation

of these hands, our touch untouching
across your crystalline surface
where we remain milimetre-close,
never daring to break your reflection.