Twenty-Two

East Kent, 13 December 2016

Hard to think it now I know

but you were only twenty-two

when we first met and wooed

and surprised ourselves to see

that we would soon be wed.

From the unique vantage point

of our little, one-bedroom flat

in stucco-fronted NW5 when

letting fall your velvet dress

under waist-encircling arm
I studied your round back

its hourglass shape, milky skin

and pretty, burnt-toffee moles

like constellation spread

on mattress without bed

(I counted five and told you so).

You sunk your all in all for me

who might have been a ratbag

and tosser. Who’s to know?

Now our kids are twenty-two

and hooking up like we did.

Hadn’t we better warn them?

Surely there are things

that they should know?

No. Just let it go.