Thursday, 17 November 2016

Let's move to Cumbria! (An ode to Annina)


‘The sea has to remain a mystery.’ She said then evaporated.
I’m flummoxed. They’re married. You tell me now as if I wouldn’t have wanted to marry her and make her a happy wife.
We could have had a country life….
With a cat who catches mice and two lolloping hounds.
Taken long walks against strong winds and seek’n shelter in the carved out hollows of sunken ships, on low-lying beach.
So that we might hide from the world and then burst out in Spring!
Pass’d Winter nights swooning over the fading moon through our slice of window pane, wrapped-up in thick blankets the weight of hay stacks.
Tea at different times of day and different kinds too.
Loose-leafed, ginseng,
nettle, fennel,
Tetley’s. You'd sing.
Think of it - you in the drawing room reading. Me in the living room pleading to be paid attention to and writing.
No babies.
We could have had it all. Moved away from here. And I could've carried you over the threshold with some help from a stranger. It would've been poverty-stricken bliss
(I'd hide the bills.)
But alas, you found her and I found him and we’ll be better off with them.