Saturday, October 06, 2012

open windows
on a summer's day
the only words
I've heard my neighbour speak
'You've never loved me'

Blithe Spirit Vol.21 No.4 December 2011

2 comments:

Matthew Paul said...

Hello Alison,

It's odd what you can overhear sometimes. I suppose some folk reach a point - a 'tipping-point' - at which they no longer care who eavesdrops. Nicely done.

All the best,

Matthew

Alan Summers said...

People forget how sound carries. My own vocal register will carry quite a long distance, sometimes embarressing, sometimes useful.

This poem has that odd mix of humour and poignancy, sadness, and an "unsettlingness."

How did they survive Christmas and the New Year I wonder?

Wonderfully memorable poem.

Alan