Paths Poem by GRANT FRASER

What paths or footsteps
have we shared...

in distant places,
of the everywhere....

life anxiety!

I don't think I ever
walked a street
and wasn't aware,
or didn't care...

for me always lost,
heading towards
even more of that....

tripping time
up with a little money,

can't get used to the Sun
spiralling through day,

I mean I've just come to say
nothing, but it's vaguely
a sort of yellow - I suppose?

these egg timers, they just
follow you around...

do I stand on your shadow step - twice,
out of time, with unsure similarity?

there is so much missing from,
wherever I go...to chase your ghostly
coat tails...

your thoughts and words
a sort of mental sex to me,
I mean if you can get in?

to parry again, what I can't understand,

whether or not, there is something
within, that is justifiably sane,
and not just playing with time....