station run
for the Edinburgh train
warm seats
© Rachel Green January 2025
Gone far behind me is a summer’s day
when long my hair was spun of liquid copper
my breasts still pert and wrinkles kept at bay
and dexterity in hands and mouth a stopper.
With easy smile and Borstal cigarette
a-dangle from a mouth so swift to kiss.
Fingers long and stained with oils and yet
the skin still soft and heart inclined to bliss.
But now the molten metal turned to ash
and time well spent is etched in every pore;
the desperate quest for love has ceased at last
contentment found behind suburban door.
if these sixty years could once be lived again
I could not hope to find such tender pain/
© Rachel Green January 2025
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