A face clenched into a black-holed fist,
The other mousey, full of conceit,
Checking to see if he missed
the bus from Seaford. Wheat
in the fields on the way to Eastbourne…
Misty and rainy over the tops:
Girls lost at the pond near Friston wood;
I should have understood,
The face left him at the shops,
Where he cursed.
"There's three minutes left on the antenna," he exclaimed -
That's a first!
Back to the real
world. Supermarkets.
A meal.
A drink or two.
Mow the lawns and papers.
Mother and lack of patience.
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