It's Still Life

HOW TO TAKE THE HISS OUT OF A SNAKE

Rain.
It spills
on the window,
cursive writing
like hands knotted
that remember
things I’ve always
wanted to do.

I once worked on an assembly line making flat-pack strawberry boxes. I just wanted someone to talk to while the boys were at school. But talking was forbidden, except during break.

The moon.
The stars.
There’s the Dipper.
Orion’s Belt.
The Horse.
And that one I think
is an aeroplane.

I once rode a horse. Once. Only. Slid off the saddle as the horse took off trotting. I bounced and rattled like an old dried gourd. What complete nonsense: if you fall off, get straight back on.

These older days
darkness of detail,
treacherous stairs,
and watery eyes.
Wood pigeon’s cooing,
or is it a baby’s cry.

A woman once asked me, what do you do all day. I test recipes before they’re published in cookery books, I said. But there is one thing I’ve always wanted to do. I wish I had a Leith’s professional chef qualification.

Or maybe something useless, like how to take the hiss out of a snake.

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Written for Miz Quickly’s Day 5 Bloganuary. #bloganuary ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting #apoemaday on Twitter