London suite – II: Thursday, Missed Meeting – Victoria

hours have misaligned
after bloodhounding
nosing all the right signs
flushing ideas
into open land

there’s a chance i could make it
if i slosh through the rivered streets
arrive lathered and panting
for perhaps a scratching of minutes
but sideways deluge and clocks from two worlds
are collaborating to tell tales

poised on this ridge i know too well
the resting quarry poised below to sprint
and in that launching second
I drop the scent, let the hare flee to the hedge
I’m dogtired, today
of the hunt, of wet feet, of London rain