Sunday, 12 November 2017

Identity

Dear Reader,

                                                                                          Donkeys

In the summers of the 1950's I spent numerous holidays on beautiful English beaches where many a donkey ride was to be had.  My sister and I found this to be a great treat and thoroughly enjoyed our selves.   Beach donkeys and donkey rides have been available since 1886 in Weston Super Mare and since 1895 in Bridlington.  The tradition started in Victorian times and it is thought that the donkeys on offer were originally working draught animals in the cockle industry around the coast.  I do love donkeys and so apparently did Charles Dickens, Jane Austen and Karl Marx. A final fact I can share with you is that since 2005 donkeys in Britain have been required to have a passport.

                                                                              *

Identity

"Why hello", she said, "how are you.
what have you been doing,
how are the family, is your sister
still writing.  I love her books
and George, I expect he is as
busy as ever, and the twins, heavens
how are they, and your grandmother, does
she still live in Acapulco, breeding
donkeys, and your dog, is it alive and well?
Ah good, good, good.
Gosh look at the time -
I really must fly, but so
lovely to hear all about you,
and your life".

The woman scratched her fingernails
down her cheek,
a spot of blood
splattered in her hand,
she pinched her arm, sensed the pain,
she stamped the ground,
felt paving stones beneath her feet,
and drawing near she saw a 23 bus.
These things were proof of her
existence, weren't they?
So she was alive, was there,
just invisible.

                                                                      *

With very best wishes, Patricia

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

This is such a brilliant comment on the society we live in today - very subtle and clever as always! Xx



Anonymous said...

This profound and thought-provoking poem well illustrates the impressively wide range of your poetic skill.