It was a haphazard approach to life
not a happy hazard, I reckon,
the way she took deadlines, like a knife
let them press coolly against her neck un-
prepared (but grinning). It was
a startling composure, that same
smile she wore each time, because
it was at once wild and tame.
It admitted that life was a bore,
that we’d constructed a silly game,
that she wouldn’t play now (she hadn’t before),
but it amused her to watch from this frame
of mind (or lack thereof).
Isn’t there something more?
so she smiled, laughed at the stars above
as each one slowly closed his door.



Photography courtesy Acton Wright.


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