Terry Quinn
Broccoli
It was on this table five years ago
We fought for the last of the broccoli
Chasing it round a bowl you’d bought
From a shop, on a farm, in the Lakes.
It wasn’t a special occasion
I think that you’d been on lates
But I remember leaning over
And how you grabbed my arm
Saying that I’d definitely cheated
And I’m saying you just can’t do that,
The crisp green floret
Dripping with butter and laughter.
In the restaurant we talked
Dabbling with bread rolls and wine
And the best time to leave
For your ferry in the morning
And how in April you’d be back
For a nephew’s wedding.
Till, smiling, the waiter brought dinner
And you told me how you’d met,
About laughter, kindness, friendship
And politely offered the last of the broccoli
The crisp green floret
Dripping with butter and sauces.
Page(s) 32
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