Long shadows
Who would have thought my life
would be like this at eight o’clock,
on a Friday, mid July. Supper for one:
two poached eggs, a grilled tomato,
leftover fruit salad, ditto white wine,
dog-sitting for our son et belle-fille,
watching the last rays splash the Pyrenees,
waiting for black redstarts to call home their young.
It’s peaceful and with purpose
– in a while I’ll feed the cats, put the hens to bed,
water the garden, pick berries for breakfast,
lose myself in another good book
this Friday, this July, at eight o’clock.
Without you. Who would have thought?
Marilyn Hammick writes at home in England and France, and can also be found stitching, walking or on her yoga mat. Her poems have appeared in Prole, The Linnet’s Wings,The Interpreter’s House and in other print and online journals. Follow her on Twitter @trywords and at http://glowwormcreative.blogspot.co.uk