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.