Classic Poem

not snowing yet

and women ride my memory like guilt

pigeons move slow enough
to get their back-end feathers trodden on
chestnuts steam in the wide pans

this open coat on a cold day

buying Christmas cards for

a troop of women riding slow
side-saddle over the roof-tops
slow into the future
like pigeons with experience

I wonder what they talk about
I wonder if they bought experience dear
if any of them ever loved again
if they would recognise me now
or if I really knew them
Margaret for instance











Used by permission of the author.