Experiment

You, across the playing field
ready to clap your hands
at my signal, with heady
sweet grass and cracked soil
sandwiched in my memory
like pressed wild flowers.

I know we are a hundred
metres apart. I wave
but you’ve glanced away
at a girl’s shrill yelp.
I calculate the speed
of your disappointment.

Ben Banyard lives in Portishead, on the Severn Estuary. He’s the author of a pamphlet, Communing (Indigo Dreams, 2016) and a full collection, We Are All Lucky (Indigo Dreams, 2018). He blogs and posts mixtapes at https://benbanyard.wordpress.com.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s