MY DARLING MOL…. in 1987….

This is a person who means very much to me, …..  we were introduced to each other many years ago,  through the good offices of one of my cats, Kitty who would go missing in the summer when she found a favourite place in Mollie’s greenhouse lying on her seedlings……   ah what a cat she was, and what a lot of talk of marmalade and poetry and the meaning of life  Mollie and I have shared, because of her ….   welcoming the apparently random blessings of life…..  
This is a poem we shared recently …..   chosen by Mollie from a book I was given by another dear woman friend – Jacqueline who I would love to draw…….  
All day the clunk of a baler
Ongoing, cardiac-dull,
So taken for granted

It was evening before I came to
To what I was hearing
And missing: summer’s richest hours

As they had been to begin with,
Fork-lifted, sweated-through
And nearly rewarded enough

By the giddied-up race of a tractor
At the end of the day
Last-lapping a hayfield.

But what I also remembered
As woodpigeons sued at the edge
Of thirty gleaned acres

And I stood inhaling the cool
In a dusk eldorado
Of mighty cylindrical bales

Was Derek Hill’s saying,
The last time he sat at our table,
He could bear no longer to watch

The sun going down
And asking please to be put

With his back to the window.

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