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Apr 2020
This morning in the park
The toes of baby giants have sprouted through the grass.  
They’re mushrooms, of course,
But it’s a cheery thought.
I’ll pass it on.

Not to Gwendolyn:
She waves a hand, then, head down, hurries past
In pursuit of late husband Edwin, always the quicker walker.
Edwin whose mind turned to sand and trickled, egg-timer-wise,
To his boots.
He left behind the trail she follows every day.
Edwin, who, towards the end, asked Gwendolyn  to hold his ankles
While he stood on his head.
A lovely bloke,
He liked a joke and would have laughed at my mushroom thing.

No point in telling Percy Pointer,
Ordering his mobile phone about again.
I’m sure there’s no-one on the other end.
Perhaps he thinks the same of me.
He might be right.

Too early for John and his dog
He’ll still be at church talking to God.
John that is, the dog’s agnostic.

Ah, this little schoolgirl I’ve seen before.
No mum today, just her dolly and a packed lunch,
Mother’s Pride no doubt,
Beautifully turned out,
A brand new shadow every day.
This morning she’s trying to stamp on its head.
‘Ha! Only hurting yourself!’ I would have suggested,
If I’d wanted to get arrested.

This jogger has wires trailing from his ears
He sings “Doo-be-doo”,
I wonder if  the one wire goes straight through
But he is past before I can ask
And I’m beginning to lose heart.

Then suddenly, out of thin air, she’s there,
My ex... Invisible Jennifer.
(I don’t see her anymore).
What brings her here?
“Why,” she says, “this gorgeous morning!
The greenery,
The scenery
And have you seen the toes of the baby giants?
They’re mushrooms of course but I thought...”

I think you’ll find that that was me, I try to say
But can’t get a word in edgeways.

Oh well, it wasn’t all that funny after all.
Let’s ****** off before she drives us up the wall
Jenny
One imaginary friend too many.

“And who are you my dear?” I hear her shout.
“Are you with misery guts?”

I think she’s talking to you.
Written by
Mick Devine
53
   Bogdan Dragos
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