Tuesday, December 13, 2016


East Kent, 13 December 2016

Hard to think it now I know
but you were only twenty-two
when we first met and wooed
and surprised ourselves to see
that we would soon be wed.
From the unique vantage point
of our little, one-bedroom flat
in stucco-fronted NW5 when
letting fall your velvet dress
under waist-encircling arm
I studied your round back
its hourglass shape, milky skin
and pretty, burnt-toffee moles
like constellation spread
on mattress without bed
(I counted five and told you so).

You sunk your all in all for me
who might have been a ratbag
and tosser. Who’s to know?
Now our kids are twenty-two
and hooking up like we did.
Hadn’t we better warn them?
Surely there are things
that they should know?
No. Just let it go.


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