Monday, 24 October 2011

Remember The River

Remember when there was a face, personality connected to every profession?
The insurance man with his flapping sole and said it was a smile?
Insurance against every kind of disaster like the afternoon when the river
rolled right in to our front room?

Now the water is green and you can’t believe it happened
but here is the olive tree you bought me in that same year. When was it?
Must be more than ten years ago now. You’ve forgotten it?
It’s hidden from you like the letters replaced by a dash
to signify a bad word in an old novel. Damn!

You’re always wondering where something has been put.

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