{"id":369,"date":"2011-09-05T11:00:00","date_gmt":"2011-09-05T11:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=369"},"modified":"2011-09-05T11:00:00","modified_gmt":"2011-09-05T11:00:00","slug":"thelma-laycocks-green-green-grass","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/thelma-laycocks-green-green-grass\/","title":{"rendered":"Thelma Laycock's 'Green, green grass'"},"content":{"rendered":"

The green, green grass.<\/span>

Looking out at the lagoon, he saw that it was a peculiar shade of bluish green.  Perched on the edge of it, like a large white communion wafer, was the moon.  \u2018It looks bloody weird!\u2019 thought Rhys, shrugging his fingers deeper into his pockets.  Venice was getting cold \u2013 soon it would be the time of \u2018Aqua Alta\u2019 and he didn\u2019t want to be around for that.  He strode into the nearest bar, ordering a \u2018grappa\u2019.  The atmosphere was warm and he took off his jacket, standing at the bar, bantam-weight, short, and as dark as any Italian.  It wasn\u2019t just the temperature which was warm; the language warmed him with its musicality, counterpointing with the pitch and toss of the rougher Veneziano dialect.<\/span>

For some reason his mind drifted back to Tiger Bay and to his local, \u2018The Red Dragon\u2019, where they\u2019d all be right now, being Saturday see.  Dando would be behind the bar whilst Dave and Huw and the other lads would be watching the match on the big screen.  Then before Dando could call time, they\u2019d sing.  Rhys (when he was there) would do his imitation of Tom Jones, and then he would get up with old Pugh, who had known his grandad, and they\u2019d play the spoons.<\/span>

A couple of weeks later, he flew to Cardiff and that night headed for \u2018The Red Dragon\u2019.  It was empty.  \u2018Moved on to \u2018The White Swan\u2019, Dando explained, \u2018it\u2019s new, it\u2019s beautiful and it\u2019s taking all my bloody trade!\u2019  \u2018But Pugh will be in?\u2019 enquired Rhys, pulling up a bar stool.   \u2018Pugh?\u2019 said Dando.  \u2018Oh, no, a lot\u2019s \u2018appened in a year, boy.  Pugh went to live with his daughter.  Up north it was.\u2019  Rhys pulled a face.  Dando went on. \u2018Didn\u2019t agree with \u2018im, of course.  Now he\u2019s back and they say he\u2019s in a residental \u2018ome \u2013 one of these convent places \u2013 Little Sisters or something.\u2019   \u2018Oh, yes,\u2019 Rhys replied, that\u2019s where Grandad was,\u2019 and a lump rose in his throat but he swigged it down quickly.<\/span>

After that it was just him and Dando.  His mind kept going back to Venice and to Rosa and the night he had first met her at the University disco, wearing some fantastic green concoction.  Oh, Rosie!   He wondered if the lagoon was still that wonderful aquamarine colour and if the moon was sitting on the edge of it, like a silver grapefruit.<\/span><\/font>\u2028\u2028
\u2028<\/p>\n

*Thelma Laycock<\/span> is a poet and lives in Leeds.  Her new collection, A Persistence of Colour <\/span><\/a>(Indigo Dreams Publishing, 2011) is just out. She doesn't write many stories.<\/span><\/font>
<\/span><\/font><\/font><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The green, green grass.Looking out at the lagoon, he saw that it was a peculiar shade of bluish green.  Perched on the edge of it, like a large white communion wafer, was the moon.  \u2018It looks bloody weird!\u2019 thought Rhys, shrugging his fingers deeper into his pockets.  Venice was getting cold \u2013 soon it would […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-369","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/369","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=369"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/369\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=369"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=369"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=369"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}