Gill Horitz
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Indoors: Symbolic Expressions
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I remember thinking the travellers on the Overground
would think nothing of five figures in a yard
at the back of homes but we were there
and it was us and in the quiet between trains
there were poppies where they’d not been
the night before and what remained of a rose
trying to begin again and when he went in
to put on the kettle the memory of the morning
was beginning to form and when he called
breakfast’s ready I watched my son walking
on the hard earth of his own yard
and how he got there part of the past
still moving through me
Published in All the Different Darknesses, Cinnamon Press