Friday, November 09, 2007

The Silence of Things


It's the silence of things
That surrounds me when
I sit beneath my favourite
Tree, the leaves unmoved,
The squirrels elsewhere.

You gave me a toothpick
Once to help pick away
The dead flesh from
Between my teeth and for
Some reason I kept it –I still have it in a shoebox
Under my bed with the
Other things you gave me:

A ticket stub from a play
I hated; the cork from a
Bottle of cheap fizzy wine;
Your handwritten quote
From Stevie Smith about
Forward-looking; your
Expensive turquoise earrings
(Although you never gave
These to me); the tennis
Ball we scribbled on in
Black marker pen; the
Disgusting mosaic vase I
Never gave you for your
Birthday that year; the final
Letter you ever wrote to me.






Lee Rourke

No comments: