At the Chest of Drawers
After Stanley Spencer
Crouched on his knees,
his body mostly blotted out
by the bed, the chest and his
wife’s mighty bulk,
he’s ferreting in the
bottom drawer while she
ransacks the upper ones.
SHE knows
what he’s looking for.
When Hilda Spencer swapped her trousers
for a skirt, powdered her nose and
wore the pearls he’d given her
on their engagement
he’d already made up his mind to
marry the unmarriageable.
Marie Papier
