<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Reunion Gradually the faces fit the names; Voices are the key: No one is famous or rich. Talk is of our children\u2019s lives Fifties girls in our fifties, We pass round photographs We remember the clothes we wore, As talk, dinner, wine and time We become the girls we were <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Alice Harrison<\/strong> is a retired teacher living in Rhyl. She began writing seriously when she joined the Open University Poets in 1992. Her poems have appeared in several magazines.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Reunion There are no shrieks of recognition. Skiddaw outside the window is the least changed though it changed with the weather then. Gradually the faces fit the names; last seen on the brink of womanhood, the bodies never could. Voices are the key: timbre, intonation and rhythm are the same, if accents have […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"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-4205","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4205","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\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4205"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4205\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4207,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4205\/revisions\/4207"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4205"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4205"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4205"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n<\/strong>
\nThere are no shrieks of recognition.
\nSkiddaw outside the window is the least changed
\nthough it changed with the weather then.<\/p>\n
\nlast seen on the brink of womanhood,
\nthe bodies never could.<\/p>\n
\ntimbre, intonation and rhythm are the same,
\nif accents have softened.<\/p>\n
\nMost seem content. One has got religion.
\nSeveral always had it.<\/p>\n
\nas if ours are no longer relevant,
\nas if we’ve stood aside.<\/p>\n
\nwe have sedate lives and sedate bodies.
\nAll tumult is past or ahead.<\/p>\n
\nof ourselves then; eager, good girls
\nwho wrote home regularly.<\/p>\n
\nthe way we did our hair, the boys we knew,
\nand absent friends.<\/p>\n
\npass, \u00a0the years reverse and redisclose
\nthe dreamer, the wit, the swot.<\/p>\n
\nand are shocked at sight of the old men
\nwho arrive to drive us home.<\/p>\n