Oxford
Oddbins, which I think opened when we were first married
is packed. A pub we met for lunch in, the day
Dylan released Street-Legal, has changed name: town not gown,
So I go to another and sit an hour with
ghosts and a pint. Recalling happiness a thwart thing
killed hurts me worse than thoughts of the misery
we came to. Sites of memory. The winged years. If this
is doing work on myself, I don't know, but when
I pass a shop and remember a dress, suddenly,
after everything, there are tears on my cheek.
~ Lachlan MacKinnon, reprinted in Essential Poems for the Way We Live Now, edited by Daisy Goodwin (London, 2003)
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| "A pint In the Jericho" by Neil. Moralee is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 |
