The night you were in town,

I could not get to see you,

was that planned,

was it just the latest

in a long line of inside

out misunderstandings,

that if I bumped into you,

if I should set my eyes

on your supposed beauty,

would I just crumble

into dust

or would I rise like a tiger

in the cage, mad, bad and dangerous

to approach trapped and with my own eyes

blazing, burning bright.

The night you came to town,

I don’t if it was flight

or rumour

of fight

that kept me indoors

again.

Ian D. Hall 2017