This Mess

I stubbed my toe on a London bus;
it stood in the doorway, just under us.

And by the door a bright Tonka truck
lay just where an unsuspecting limb got stuck.

And in the night a train might stray
far from its tracks into my way;

and you, dear you, might show up right
when I would rather turn in for the night

yet love is seldom a smooth affair,
and ground is better than ideal air.

True, I’d prefer to not stub my toes,
but love must bleed; that’s the way it goes.

Published by Matthew Pullar

Teacher, writer, blogger, husband, father, Christian. Living in Wyndham in Melbourne's west, on the land of the Kulin Nation. Searching for words to console and feed hearts and souls.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: