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by Fillippa Jensen

Polyphony, Volume 3, Issue 1

First published December 2020, Manchester


(Video: Narrated by Fillippa Jensen; Filmed and edited by Aisha Sodawala and the Polyphony Design Committee, 2020)

Now, who is to clean up

all your worn shirts and unread books,

the half full pack of cigarettes,

or the coffee mug still

sitting on the terrace

where you sat this

other morning,

undoubtedly making plans with the gods,

whispering, so I could not hear.

There is a picture on your desk

taken half a life ago:

the summer I came to visit

this strange country where in June

the sun never leaves the sky,

and you made me stay.

Going through your drawers

I am surprised to find

a pack of digestives you didn’t eat, yet

I know you wouldn’t mind me sharing it

with our Labradors and grandchildren.

In our fine old Volkswagen, the dog sits

ready for the Sunday trip to ‘Droobak

or ‘Drøbak’ as our grown girls would correct

me and laugh, something you never did.

For the same reason my name is Carla,

but they call me Lala, and so did you.

I knew you the best,

and now I have to bear

your ring as well as mine,

both on my necklace,

our life echoes

with the faint clink of metal and vows.


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