Walk the Plank – February 2011

Walk the Plank

you made a rod –
for your own back
and –
every time –
you think someone
is an answer
it turns out –
they are just one –
more question –
in the crossword puzzle
that we all try to solve
the one that clings to us
yet leaves us cold
and –
when the internal walls
are blackened
by unsightly mould
when the firelights turn damp
we have to make bread
we have to give thanks
it is either that –
or we walk the plank

More poems at

James Garratt – February 2011

I am a 40 something sometime writer. I live in the South West of the UK but originally I am from Essex.

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