Earth to Andy P
by Esther Frances
Posted: 24 February 2009 Word Count: 220 |
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And so now you’re gone
My precious willow tree
Of ashen white
A trunk of legs
(A younger man
would be proud of)
Rooted firmly
in uncertain ground
Defending a vegetable patch
You never knew you had
Although coveted
With some imagined conviction
You stand prepared
A fork in hand
A solemn stare
You
Who ticked all my boxes
Lined with bright red flags
Of warning signs
Triangular in nature
And made of perfect geraniums...
Have left me now
Sadly...
You have left me
But not for another woman
Who you already had
But did not want
(And will not want again)
But instead you have chosen to stay
In uncomfortable shoes
Which you will shine
For your own distraction
So now you’re gone
My heart and bed are empty
As is yours
In its bleaker moments
And yet your loving kindness
Cannot be forgotten
By me
God, I miss you
Cooking in my heart space
My arms wrap round you
Many times in retrospect
I pay homage to our fragility
And wish for more robustness
In our futures
Only morning comes
With its reality and all
Breaking the night
Like bad news
It tells me
That we are stuck
In our realities
Like mud
On rather
Worn out shoes
That cannot proceed
With any real conviction
Until tomorrow comes
My precious willow tree
Of ashen white
A trunk of legs
(A younger man
would be proud of)
Rooted firmly
in uncertain ground
Defending a vegetable patch
You never knew you had
Although coveted
With some imagined conviction
You stand prepared
A fork in hand
A solemn stare
You
Who ticked all my boxes
Lined with bright red flags
Of warning signs
Triangular in nature
And made of perfect geraniums...
Have left me now
Sadly...
You have left me
But not for another woman
Who you already had
But did not want
(And will not want again)
But instead you have chosen to stay
In uncomfortable shoes
Which you will shine
For your own distraction
So now you’re gone
My heart and bed are empty
As is yours
In its bleaker moments
And yet your loving kindness
Cannot be forgotten
By me
God, I miss you
Cooking in my heart space
My arms wrap round you
Many times in retrospect
I pay homage to our fragility
And wish for more robustness
In our futures
Only morning comes
With its reality and all
Breaking the night
Like bad news
It tells me
That we are stuck
In our realities
Like mud
On rather
Worn out shoes
That cannot proceed
With any real conviction
Until tomorrow comes
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