Larry’s View by Marc Woodward

I am not a silent poet

He leaned forward in his chair:

“It’s kinda like a favourite book.
One you pick up from the shelf,
look at the pretty pictures,
enjoy the charming end
and then put back
knowing it’s not your story –
it’s just a story.

Well, that’s how it was for me.
Before the injunction.
I’d watch quietly from a parked car.
Take a photo or two.
Never trouble her.
Just took an interest;
liked to see a new outfit.
Or what she’d choose
if the weather changed.

Ok, I rang a few times
just to hear her say ‘hello’.
Her voice is so sweet, you know?
Kinda trembly when she
answers the phone.
I didn’t say anything,
just hung up –
figured she’d think it was a wrong number.

Of course it freaked her out.
Stupid of me really.
She called the police,
they traced the call to me,
and that’s it:…

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