An Idea Escapes. Poem by Miki Byrne

A mind runs. Hamster-wheeling.
Forms an idea at the 52nd spin.
Rolls it down to mouth.
Hits a fence of teeth.
Cannot escape in speech.
Bangs around inside the head.
Stirring up dusty memories.
Dark fears. Happy times.
Runs down the spine.
Hop-scotching along vertebra.
It is too far from the ground to jump.
Returns. Climbs a ladder of ribs.
Balances across the blade of clavicle.
Slides down the vein in the right arm.
Clenches fingers round a pen.
Slithers inside and down the plastic tube.
Pushes past a tiny ball slick with black ink.
Spirals out onto a blank page.
Dances exuberant steps.
Into the rhythms of poetry.