Molehills
Moles, my neighbour calls through a hole in the hedge the day we move in –
we’ve got moles.
I jump up and down on their molehills, he says. Doesn’t do any good, but it makes me
feel
better.
Bin day’s Thursday – black bins this week, green and recycling next.
The parking’s a dream.
Cold in winter, mind – wind properly whips down the valley.
We built an extension.
I’ve got a dog, Misty, but she’s no trouble.
Harborough can be snooty.
Sainsbury’s is good for fish.
The man on the corner works for MI5.
A cow got in the garden once. I didn’t mind: I’m a city boy. The thought of fields – that
blew us away when we came here. Our own little slice of heaven, this place.
Maybe I’ll get someone in – for the moles. I can’t bear them.
I hear all this through a hole in the hedge.
This, and that his wife, Susan, is dead.
Tim Relf is a Leicestershire-based novelist and poet. His latest novel, What She Left, was published by Penguin under the pen name TR Richmond. His poetry has been published in The Rialto.