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The Engagement
We were on the phone, when she said the words, "let's just be friends"
and so I jumped in my car and tore over to her house;
it was going to be one of those days.
*
when I arrived, I drove right on in
thru the front window - she was surprised to see me
so I slowed down and screeched to a halt just in front of her couch.
*
she sat there decidedly unmoved and watched awhile, while I reached
around for a cigarette and then lit up. "I suppose you're pretty proud
of yourself then?" she said. No reply, I just grinned.
*
But thinking I was heading nowhere fast, I decided to stake my ground.
"Well, are you getting in or not?" "No, I don't think so... I hate you,
I hate you, I hate you, just leave me allonneee!"
*
"OK, OK, just quieten down, all right. This is the rest of our lives
we're talking about." "Do you really not like my new earrings, then?"
"Just get in!" She gets in. And that's that. End of bloody story.
Last Days
A Raymond Carver blues
From where they're standing
the light is not so good. She walks
ahead, eschewing a smile. She
leads him on into shadow,
a certain blackness falling
at her feet. Then, later,
in the woods, they find a clearing,
and he spies a look of sadness in her eyes
as she takes him by the hand, and slowly
they make love for the last time.
Tomorrow, she will leave.
'Goodbye,' she'll say. 'Thanks. No, I
mean it...' At least that's what he
thinks she'll say as she drives away,
a new man already at her side...
In another city, in another life perhaps,
they'll exchange phone-calls, and
remember those 'old summer days', when,
married, a flower in her hair, a ribbon
tied to her dress, she awaited his soft hands.
©Mark Pirie
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