the way we join the dots

do you remember the dot-to-dot pages

of the big childhood puzzle books?

Sprawling galaxies of tiny numbers.

I'd stare and imagine all kinds of pictures.

Days still scatter like these black and white pages,

points of contact waiting for assignation,

for the colouring in pencil.

I watch the swallows today,

live wired to their journey,

they are the dots that know their own picture.