I wish I could remember who inspired this small poem. In fact, I've no recollection of writing it at all.
Many years ago, when I first started writing and submitting poems for publication, I was told by a friend that I had a poem published in the magazine Cyphers. I had no memory of submitting a poem, and did not believe the report. But after one or two other people mentioned it, I went into a shop to check. I remember quite clearly reading it and concluding that it was far better than anything I could write and concluded that there was another Michael O'Dea writing poetry. In fact, I concluded that the gulf in the standard of the writing was the reason that I would never be published. Later I realised that the subject matter was very familiar to me, and, that all things considered, it had to be mine.
A drink too many, I think, and so it seems nothing's changed; and I'm not sure that Cyphers would publish this.
my bracelet snaps.
Touch:a dusty rug for shaking.