Un-Recognition

Not the tracing fingers over once forgotten journeys
Memories freshly jogged.
Not the squinted and determined scrutiny of birthplaces
Work places and homes,
And not the futile hoarding of names and places
For Thursday’s Pub Quiz.
Just a myriad of colours, lines, shapes and textures
A jigsaw on a grand scale
And they all blur together as it spins inevitably, and tortuously
Across the floor.

It was dark when we left the vet school today. Wet and cold. Sniffle.

Broken cues

Broken cues - someone (I know who you are WM) has broken the cue in the bar, thus preventing the playing of pool, which is most upsetting - our practice today had to be cancelled.