Tuesday, 5 April 2016
April Poems 2016/05
Forever is an Eternity in Hell
We met at the sycamore tree,
where the afternoon sun painted freckles
across the scrubby grass
and the summer heat was bearable
as I sat with my back against the trunk
listening to wood pigeons high above
and the hum of a distant tractor.
You carved my name in the bark
with the pen-knife you stole from your father
brass and wood, smoothed by age
with a nick missing from the cold steel blade
where he'd stabbed the helmet of a Maltese guerilla.
I thought it was touching, sweet,
a declaration of your forever love,
to last until the end of the world.
By summer's end you'd moved on –
Lisa DiLuca wore black lace bras
where mine were grey from mixed washes
forever felt like a taunt
whenever I passed the spot on the way to school.
Wiser now, and when he says 'forever' I don't believe him.
No-one can love forever.