the Country

Is this it?

Nearly peace?

Standing small

As pylons as the light just falls

Watching them wait in waterproofs

While I tie my shoes

The space between us just a bit too far

to distinguish faces; they’re complaining about the cars

and A1 noise and those boys revving until backfire

He had bought the whole cake in the church cafe

The old ladies always laughed

At three it had been cheese toasties and teas

On plates half clean; the ladies can’t see the washing up properly anymore

We walk just slightly too fast

To properly take in the blackbird when passing

And if this is it

I’ve nearly made my peace with it