September 2011


 

Redpolls (Carduelis caberet), fidgeted high in the larch, picked clean Capability’s cones  

 and a few fragile fallow fawns shivered by the guard of red stags.

 Then  with a flash of blue’, the final whistle sounded on the plough, 

 the white swan took flight with a last wheezing of the pipes,

 and I stood in the grove while silent swallows swerved around my knees.

 

After thirty years, she could stand it no longer.

Her legs would no longer bear the weight

of it. There was no disease;  her numbness

didn’t follow neural logic.  She seemed relieved,

 

distressed more by  foreign news,

the Nazi’s were rounding up the Jews.

So was her spouse the tyrant, the brooding   

presence in the marriage bed?

 

Brooklyn Credit’s next in charge,   

the token Hebrew on the payroll, whose 

flaccid hatreds disavow his race 

and persecute his wife.   

 

Confined in their domestic fortress,

her legs refuse to do her duty,

to withold her infant man,

or bear his burden of suspicion

 

when that same dark hate forces  old women

to scrub the pavement with a toothbrush.

Lacking support, his despairing heart rages, then stops.  

She stands numb with pity and walks towards him.   

 

Broken Glass by Arthur Miller stars Anthony Cher and Tara Fitzgerald and is currently playing at the Tricycle Theatre, Kilburn before moving to the Vaudeville in  The Strand next week.