I bump into friends

on the way home from a haircut where my hairdresser
took the shears to me with an aggression
that didn’t match her gentle appearance.
She’s training to be a midwife too.
I wondered how gentle you need to be
to pull a person out of someone’s body.
In the accidental bar we hadn’t meant to go into,
we come up with ideas that, were we elsewhere,
would make us our millions.
A funny day. Disappointment and triumph
at once. Decision making in the back of the scenes
of my brain. A lack of clarity. A plan for a party.
No way of knowing what’s right. How could you?
Pasta outside for lunch. Outside, in November!
I lick my hands and hold them up like rabbit ears
to Harriet, who does the same back at me.
One of hers is crooked. It’s beautiful.