SLOWLY STOPPED WORKING

I have been contemplating the wallpaper in the bedroom where I write.

Since we moved into this house, thirty six months ago, we have been slowly renovating it. Now my gaze has fallen on the blue rose wallpaper of this room.

Prompted by an #iamallstories exercise I wrote this week's poem. I think that is all you need to know prior to reading

They chose blue rose wallpaper for this room,

never knowing five years down the line

too big, too empty, crowded with memories

the house would be sold by the one left alive.

When they had sat in the freshly tiled kitchen

breathing the newness in, satisfied,

drinking instant in the cups they used for coffee,

could they have realised that after the sale

the new people would change nothing,

content to live in a house that slowly stopped working,

unheated and unloved until they moved too,

because that’s what people do

so here in my turn I contemplate blue roses.

Some poems require the reader to have specific information in order to understand then poem, others, those inspired by a painting or photograph require the reader to know the image but this poem just is. 

Before Christmas the room will be decorated and the blue roses will be no more...

Here's Laura Gibson. I was listening to La Grande the other day, first time for ages. I'd forgotten just what a good writer she is.

Here's a live session from last year.

You can order her fine new album here.

This, I think, is my favourite song by her.

Honestly is it that long ago?

Until next time.