Calligraphy

Chance forged the path
back to you,
before you grew wings
and I turned away,
unable, unwilling
to bear attitudes reflected
only in the mirrors
of my past. The
Yoo is thick and spidery,
scarcely competent at
capitalisation; the
Eff, tall as a palm tree
with mistakes
for leaves; the other Yoo
follows on, losing height
to its predecessors,
but winding a
determined, rambling path
to keep company
with your Ohh, that
is more a
diamond, rough-cut
and black,
like your mischievous eyes.
Emm is engorged, perhaps
with the thrill
of translating thoughts
to paper, like an
accidental tourist, with
gaps of years in
its vocabulary. Aay,
though, is a
personal favourite, a
loyal, familiar
friend; an obstacle in the process
of learning – delicate youthful
curves, too sophisticated,
it is placed in the
frame of an adult, ruling
the word a grammatical
error.
I smile.

You’ve spelt out your name
as though
spelling out your life.