Marine Parade


Minton tiles

In between the one-way system,
parking the car,
and her funeral,
there’s the house  -
stained glass and bow front window
salted with the sea.

Can you forget counting five wallpapers
round the echoes of a single room,
everyone else catching up
in the chatter of the kitchen;
how her doll’s house
had a hall, a staircase  -
all the elements for a proper story,
so English and extravagant?

And although a new hotel
has torn off the brass number,
laid carpet
over the slippery Minton geometry of the hall
who’d forget
she was the only one ever
to own a Siamese,
to admit to love,
to gleam with freckles,
sun.

D A Prince

If you have any thoughts on this poem, D A Prince would be pleased to hear them.