On Not Catching a Poem

A poem is a hard thing to catch
You must be in the right place
At the right time
With the right equipment
Driving in your car
On a summer afternoon
When the poem crosses your path
Limping like a black cat
Crossing the hot tarmac
That’s just not the right time
Or place
Or equipment
And the poem gets away

–– C. Eric Funston, 6 June 2021