Errant Markers.

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