Hoo End

July 2, 2011 § Leave a comment

Winter (20/12/2010)

Through the graveyard;

Ewan

Bill

Jane

They’re all here

Ewan knew his tools, but I didn’t know him well,

Bill worked his garden, but I didn’t know him well,

Jane had a daughter, but she didn’t know her well.

and I don’t know where they fell.

Lowered into the ground

Slowly

Ending in a gentle thud.

Over the road we reach the Hoo

Long strip of asphalt

Folded over arches of a lover’s back

Now barren

And air crisp like lover’s bite

The Hunting Party is just in sight.

Tut. Tut. Tut.

Green coats and wives with tea,

beaters hold the dogs

and release in one, two, three.

The Cottage at Hoo End.

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