Grasshopper Legs

Written by: Daniel Cheeseman

It's quiet tonight only the witterings 
of grasshopper legs for company. 
The sun has dipped leaving dark 
blue tones with slate grey slabs 
spanning the horizon. The pool is 
motionless, orange balls sit like 
flames on water, reflections of the 
rustic village lamps.
This is the time I sit with my God
and ask him of the day, a day of
days like so many have passed.
In the emptiness I pass words, ask
questions, try and readdress the
significance of my existence. To
this point I am like everyone else,
but cannot help feeling I am like
no other. 
I toil with many aspects, love, faith, 
humanity to name a few, on the edge
a smiling face , inside chewed, torn
by a lifetime of compromises dealt
by fates hand. Some may say you
are too late in life to be asking, 
accept, but is not acceptance 
giving in to the mundane.
So I pick myself and my conscience
up and head for home, leaving the 
wittering of grasshopper legs to mull
over the unanswered questions, for I
am sure he was not there, never has
been in the past, but the next quiet
time I will try again, as we all do