Poem 263

The life-long stories we tell ourselves in order to get through a day …

( I like difference as a bottle glass filter on life, alliteration of car crashes and church, the sugar-sucked brick, and the way distance echoes difference … )

Her Difference

She hides her difference deep
and looks through it the lightest green
     of bottle glass
when she's in car crashes or in church
she thinks of her difference
and polishes it
                           as smooth as a lump of brick
sugar-sucked by the sea
it's heavy and she likes that
sleeps round it as reassured
as a cat

her difference lets her be the same
lets her walk down the street and not shout
lets her hang out the washing according
to a plan
                   and every Christmas every birthday
                   say where does the time go?

her difference has always one eye open
and it cares nothing for anything
one day it will step out of her
         and say
                         now

         all her friends and children
         and handful of lovers
         will have to look for her in the black
         pieces of distance between
         the stars