A gust of wind opened and closed our garden gate

It wasn’t a ghost postman
delivering letters from the dead.
It wasn’t an invisible menu dropper
letting us know about the latest
zero calorie pizza from Crust Begone.
It wasn’t the combined air
of the local foxes laughing
about the state of our front garden.
It wasn’t a sigh from my self esteem
wondering why I was still in yesterday’s pants.
It wasn’t a tut from my to do list.
It wasn’t the huff of a miserable goalkeeper.
It was just a gust of wind
opening and closing our gate,
reminding me of your chatty jaw.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

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