Waving at Strangers
Her smile unbreakable
she leans towards me
calls me love
with Blackpool warmth,
folding up her handkerchief
in crazy ways,
giving me her nonsense
like the news.
Though she waves
at strangers in the street
and sometimes slaps his face
he’ll stay with her,
abandoned with his tea.
What holds him now
is a contented grief
for what has past.
That, and her resemblance
to his wife.
Page(s) 17
magazine list
- Features
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- 10th Muse
- 14
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- Cannon's Mouth, The
- Chroma
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- Dream Catcher
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- Fabric
- Fire
- Floating Bear, The
- French Literary Review, The
- Frogmore Papers, The
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- Interpreter's House, The
- Iota
- Journal, The
- Lamport Court
- London Magazine, The
- Magma
- Matchbox
- Matter
- Modern Poetry in Translation
- Monkey Kettle
- Moodswing
- Neon Highway
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- North, The
- Oasis
- Obsessed with pipework
- Orbis
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- Painted, spoken
- Paper, The
- Pen Pusher Magazine
- Poetry Cornwall
- Poetry London
- Poetry London (1951)
- Poetry Nation
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- Poetry Salzburg Review
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- Private Tutor
- Purple Patch
- Quarto
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- Reach Poetry
- Review, The
- Rialto, The
- Second Aeon
- Seventh Quarry, The
- Shearsman
- Smiths Knoll
- Smoke
- South
- Staple
- Strange Faeces
- Tabla Book of New Verse, The
- Thumbscrew
- Tolling Elves
- Ugly Tree, The
- Weyfarers
- Wolf, The
- Yellow Crane, The