Birthday

When you said

That for you

Life had only just begun

I did not hear it. But

Then I saw you

Watching your girl

Scoop up the last

Precious finger-full of cake

Whilst you endlessly

Sought

Not to lose

The thread of her

For more than an arm's length

Not to look back

And let the old words in.

On the way home the sun

A bright oil-spill

On a half-finished canvas

Car thrumming

Like an old spin-dryer:

I felt life's dogged beat

Against the earth,

And somewhere

Barefoot on wet flagstones

A child sang

As if at last

Someone was listening.