Never a cross word in all those years?
That isn’t true.
Still, we learned to read each other’s clues,
knew the difference between down and cross
When the letters in your head got mixed
I’d sometimes help you make coherent words.
Seeing you sat in cryptic quietness,
pen twitching in your hand,
I traced your posture with my brush
while you filled in the blanks
to hold back the black spaces.
The pen is idle now, those hard won words
locked up inside it.
Can I resolve the silent cipher
Of an empty chair?
John has spent forty years sitting behind a desk tapping at the keys of a computer for ten hours a day and writing about Investment Banking. Freed from the yoke of the capitalist oppressor he now sits behind a desk for five hours a day and writes about whatever he likes. Then he goes and walks the dog.