This poem by Susan Wicks was commended in our members’ competition in 2020, and published in Folio #74.
Slowly today our two paths are converging –
you with your rucksack on a Turkish bus
towards Antalya, while from our terraced house
I zigzag to our daughter’s, then to school and back
to where our grandson scoots his circuits of the grass
and backwards-climbs the slide, zip-wiring out
towards the place beyond the heavy trees
where you are getting nearer – waiting in a line
then shuffling to your seat and flying into sunset, dusk,
the dark of Sussex lanes criss-crossed by headlights –
home, and never anywhere to park. A quiet cough,
a click, a footstep on the stairs; through sleep
I’ll feel the silence change, your weight
Tipping the mattress sideways like a lurching boat.
I’ll taste the salt and smell falafel, dream
I’m in a country where we read and swim and laugh
and could be happy if our journeys were to meet.