A puzzle and a solution: A poem 

I can’t tell you what I like 

your fire, your earth or your ice 

or the air in your hair 

or the indifference that you bear 

You make my thumbs messy 

Yet you bring me a legacy 

You dead-end my street, I cry 

Then, you helipad it so I can fly 

There’s a loose thread in what I wear 

You tug at it till I am stripped bare 

And when, at you, I frown, there is a crown 

an adjective and a noun 

You are a surreal distance and a tangible force 

a sheer drop of cliff with a bridge of course 

I seem unable to reasonably measure you 

But, at every crossroad, I can count on you