A Pome a Day for a Year

Compartmentalising involuntarily and all
those powerful, brilliant, striking ideas;
those magnetic thoughts and impressions
wash away like dirt in the path of
squeaky wind screen wipers.

I had these plans, I had things
that I was going to do,
but arriving at my destination
and the me that steps out of the car
is a different me to the one
lodged behind the wheel
because they are no longer held
within my head.

I have lost those thoughts
no way to return them, no calling card
to use to make appointments,
I just have to accept
that they are as fleeting as
the birds that laugh overhead.