Mary? Mary? Quite?

I often try to imagine you there;
auburn wind puffed hair, bright teeming moist GREEN.
Walking to church, peeling potatoes, fair
play, hand washed, homemade, sufficient – ly clean.
SPEAK – I need to sense. Could you have conceived
of me reACHing, rooting, in the future?
Cant feel how you achieved – did you believe
in fields managed by manual men? Manure?
Threshing, fetching, some sold to sleep in barns,
while Sissy boils up. Mother to Daughter?
House-field-home-hard-WORK. No place for fire ARMS???????????
as only animals are for slaughter.
You asked WHY. You could not go to the dance.
So when possible you raced. Embraced. CHANCE.

You remember the plastic post office?
I never gave you back what you put in,
even taking your name. Some apprentice!
But I do have my porridge watery. Thin.
Tinned Salmon with spuds; No duds. Wish
with vegetable soup, scrabbled eggs, ginger.
Crosswords without cross words, scrabbling, bookish.
I always feel your ring on my finger.
A piece my heart whistles on Walney
as it rolls down what seemed once a mountain.
Dandelion, burs, docks, sand, hills, stoney
beaches, back yards, industrial fountains.
Was Reg wrong? Past the grim back of beyond.
Illusive? Confused? Unbreakable bonds?

These are my thoughts, as I wait. Your move next?
You flex, place down an x, relaxed. That smile
harvesting so much from so little text
– waste not – the lessons of the emerald isle.
It is not what you have but what you DO
with it that counts. Of course you are correct
– I had one all along but wanted to
much so I had no will. Past? Perfect?
Present future? Participating? TENSE.
Continuously present condition;
ALL ways caught in the fence. Awkward expense.
Suspended out of time? NEED your permission.
By God you play a good game. Teach me. Please?
Coronation calls from the street – at ease.

Poetry by iRate
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