A goodness that isn’t in us
until it’s in us
little cakes, jam filling
something to tide us over
except it comes from inside
and has no decoration.
What if I reached down deep
he said, and there was nothing.
That’s when I got scared
for all of us. What if what if.
Being the hour of disquiet.
On the bridge a woman
heaped over with a cup
extended beyond her
as far as she can reach
and still grasp its paper sides.
What if every mother bore a cup
and asked us to hold that cup
while she went for milk.
Did you step past already?
You are not remarkable. You did
the expected thing. You watched
the gulls diving for bread
upon the water down below.
Are you saving for a house
and if you own it will you own it
as a sanctuary from all the worst
suffering. Will it keep you
like a cookie until mealtime.
“This should keep you.” Tuppence.
Goodness, are you there. Have
you got it in you, goodness that
only goodness knows. How do
the sad go shopping—sadly. Some of
this, some of that. Toothpaste.
Something in case. In case of
company. In case of fire.
