Stood Up
STOOD UP
Wet corner, bricks uneven,
Rain driven in lines horizontal,
Cutting knife-edge of gale.
Distant bell chimes eleven.
Turn up coat collarband:
Imagine why she’s late
For this our regular date;
Light cigarette with cupped hand.
She does not come, likely never will.
Clock pointers slow to stop,
Bolts go home in door of tobacco shop,
Last bus strains past up the hill.
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