As a child, I always liked it most
when I sat at the centre of the seesaw;
there, you didn’t need to pick a side,
yet somehow, you still got the thrill
of the aching highs and the sudden lows.
I also found it was best to be agnostic
about where I preferred to spend Christmas.
Mt recurrent nightmare was that my parents
were drowning in a river and I had to choose
one of them to swim out to and save.
So, you’ll forgive me if I find it difficult
to say what I’d like for dinner, or if I take
an hour deciding on a film to watch.
Choice is hard for some of us. And anyway,
perhaps my parents were fine in the river,
perhaps it was my job to stay dry.
Published in New Welsh Reader issue 132
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