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
