C. H. Sisson
Eastville Park
I sat on a bench in Eastville Park
It was Monday the 28th of October
I am your old intentions she said
And all your old intentions are over
She stood behind me, I did not see her
Her shadow fell on Eastville Park
Not precise or shapely but spreading outwards
On the tatty grass of Eastville Park.
A swan might buckle its yellow beak
With the black of its eye and the black of its mouth
In a shepherd’s crook, or the elms impend
Nothing of this could be said aloud
I did not then sit on a bench
I was a shadow under a tree
I was a leaf the wind carried
Around the edge of the football game
No need for any return for I find
Myself where I left myself — in the lurch
There are no trains but I remember them:
Wherever I went I came here first.
Page(s) 35
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