Go Between

March 17, 2008

I met one of your teachers
just the other day –

the one with the name like
gossip, gosling –

soft feathers of baby birds –
corsage worn by bride or girl –

Mr Gossage – showed me to the room
where we were taught –

asked me how our mother
was – said he’d kept the

paper that you wrote
for years and years until

just recently –
he’d always thought you’d

work in Academia – so I
told him –

about your education
your Oxford Don and

Doctor winning thesis
something to do with

literary criticism
and Walter de la Mare.

If you should ever wish to return

(you’ll have to hurry
they knock it down, sometime next year)

you should know
they hold your face,

somewhere safe
in slanting boards:

a young man,
smoking a pipe,

a jacket patched –
probably corduroy.

I told them that you didn’t smoke.
Left your sister out of it.


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