From the moment I woke, Why? Was in the air. The dawn chorus questioned me from beyond the curtains: Why-why? Why-why? Jasper’s little needy face gazed up with wide, brown why-eyes. Even as I stirred a question mark of syrup into my porridge, the radio sang songs asking why you left, why did you have to go? Your favourite armchair let out a sad pufft: Oh, why? Very soon my mother would be on the phone with more questions than I had the stomach for: But WHY? He was such a lovely chap! I sat alone, spooning sweet, sweet porridge into my why-hole mouth, and wondered why I hadn’t done it sooner.
No comments:
Post a Comment