It's been a disgustingly long time since I blogged! I'm not quite sure why I've been so remiss. But I HAVE been writing, so I'll share something now. This is a little mini-narrative I concocted, when asked to write a poem on the theme of either 'violence' or 'silence'. I think that the following falls into both categories. But see what you think...
“I’m not waiting for you”.
Nevertheless, time passes. He’s taking
the kind of interest in passers-by
that comes with being left, on a cold day.
He’s wearing the grey coat with a collar
that would turn up, but he’ll not
do it. She’ll be here in a minute.
Two Beatles songs, and the Greek alphabet
later, there’s a shift in the air.
Is she here?
Disappointment is surprisingly light.
You can wear it, watch-like, on your wrist,
or button it into your pocket, hiding it.
But still there’s no lift in the quiet.
Carefully he levers gum from the packet,
shifts left foot to a new position. Head back
to watch the pale blue, miraculous
but perfectly moronic sky. Shit, why?
She’s really doing it. Taking his promise
and treading it, silently, into the cold pavement.