The Man Next Door
“Neversweat,” my father called him
thanks to his habit of wearing a cravat
whatever the season.
He had the house they built next to ours
forever in the shadow of our garden walls
and the forsythia hedge I planted at seventeen.
Lionel Leadbetter (and honestly, why would
his parents think that a good idea?) used to
drop in for a cup of tea with my father
and her mechanic friends (the long drive
could hold half a dozen breakdown trucks)
but never realised their casual cruelty.
© Rachel Green 2016