Breakdown

The railings outside the flats near my house whistle like pan pipes when the wind blows.

They sound lonely, but maybe I’m projecting.

I once did my back in running past them during that gale

When you thought your engine was fucked and we called breakdown, but you actually just had a flat tyre.

It seems fitting that I have found a way to sustain a physical injury from an unseen force.

I never had any problems doing the same with my mind.

The moon looks like a smudge someone has tried to cross out tonight.

I never understood what anyone was on about when they said they felt aligned with the moon before

I get it now.

I doubt I’ll come this close again.

Winter is hinting at its arrival

I’m not sure I’ve come to terms with autumn yet.

Did it even happen?

In a minute I’ll be 40

and then what,

more of the same?

If I’m honest, it’s not what I was picturing for myself:

Sitting in silence

making tenuous observations about lonely railings whilst reminiscing about breakdowns and bad backs

When we all know what I’m really doing is trying to avoid feeling sad.

More of the same.

But we are where we are.

And I suppose

at least now there’s the moon thing to mull over.