April means it’s 30/30 poetry challenge 


He strides 
all mud spattered boots and masculinity
shirt open to where a button’s missing 
offering a glimpse of what could be yours.
Anxiety snivels at his ankles, “wait for me”.

He pauses long enough to catch your eye
he’s seen you in the corner 
that’s not where you’re supposed to be.
He leaves the door banging in the wind created by his passing
and you think if you lose sight of him you will never catch up.
But I know he’s doing a circuit
he’ll be back.
He always is.
Crashing about for attention,
Anxiety wailing behind.
If you go with him you will gallop along cliff edges
your breath held for fear it will pull you over the edge.
But if you wait you can have a bag packed 
with snacks for the journey, spare coat in case it rains.
You’ll get there just the same.

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