Eyes are like dice. They see by chance.

Of course, if they’re healthy
they see what’s in front of them –
what’s given. But not all of it.

Certain saints and disturbed individuals
see what’s not there – 
have visions and hallucinations.

Some people only have eyes
for what they’re looking for,
while others never find it,
even when it’s staring right at them.

All these things can be true, but I think
eyes are like dice. They see by chance.

I enjoy filling
the ice cube tray –

holding it
under the tap,
moving it
slightly left
or right

to ensure each cube
is created
more or less 
equally.

I know machines
could easily,
would gladly, 
do it for me.

But I prefer
to do it manually –

tucking the tray
into the freezer,
anticipating tomorrow’s
first cold drink.

The rattle of ice in a glass
is a happy sound

that reminds me of my father
fixing a triple vodka martini.

Whenever we heard it,
we knew he was home.