He added her name in black marker scrawl
To the white corner wall on the way to school.
It was the first Monday of September term.
She was embarrassed, enchanted, too,
But, mostly, just worried
what her mum would say…
What her friends would say…
what her sister might say…
But, mostly just worried what her boyfriend would do.
Only sleepwalkers (or the blind) could fail to see
Those two careful vowels ‘boxing-in’ two consonants,
Or, even that ludicrous hook that swung from the ‘J’
Snagging – almost –
The rushed and clumsy inky-black heart preceding.
It would remain so until the following spring,
When the scrubby, pissy grass had inched
Its way up the brickwork from the cracks in the pavement
To hide most of his forgotten autumn declaration.
But, there it remained in her mind.
What if? But, no!
One day in May, a man from the council came
And white-washed the wall again
For the coming summer’s litany
Of dreamers and lovers, losers and learners,
And those with new errant markers.
photo/words ©nickreeves 2018