The mower cable's puzzled into knots again
and somewhere, out of sight, a spider freezes
as that dropped screw rolls to a halt. Sadly
there are more ways of being wrong than right.
Adrift for thirty years myself I know
it's easier to be lost than found.
Consider it as manumission from
the rituals of fate and fingers crossed.
There are just less ways of being right than wrong:
that sweet spot missed despite much fumbling;
fruitless hours with tangled words; all those
frogs which just stayed frogs when kissed.