eighty this week
and still hiding his tattoos
under long sleeves a foolish young marine
he says with a boy's smile
in myth the lost girl
is saved by a prince or eaten
in the forest
I will cut off my hair
paint my nails red
same old shoreline
but the glitter of something
on the horizon
I squint . . . a new wave
breaks at my feet
I find a stem
of blue buddleia on my desk
in a stone bottle
we talk about our marriage
through another day of rain
I still see him
leaning on his front gate
in bright sunlight
the house looks smaller now
and the black dog has gone
Lynne Rees was born and grew up in South Wales, UK and has lived in the Channel Islands, Florida, Barcelona and France. She has published a novel, a collection of poetry, and co-authored Messages (2006), a volume of short experimental prose. She ran her own second-hand and antiquarian bookshop for 12 years and since 2000 has taught creative writing at the University of Kent, Canterbury, UK. www.lynnerees.co.uk
Lynne Rees was born and grew up in South Wales, UK and has lived in the Channel Islands, Florida, Barcelona and France. She has published a novel, a collection of poetry, and co-authored Messages (2006), a volume of short experimental prose. She ran her own second-hand and antiquarian bookshop for 12 years and since 2000 has taught creative writing at the University of Kent, Canterbury, UK. www.lynnerees.co.uk