The Plot (For The Poet, Lloyd Merritt and Ivan, His Dad)
Two years ago, the Ferris Wheel
offered you a view.
It’s true that time runs out
to an ordered plan
This, plainly, is
your real property:
a foreign garden
bordering your neighbour’s land.
Under a hat in France, Ivan
picked ripened strawberries; like you,
docile as a child who dreamed
of breaking rules and making clean
fast getaways at night.
And though your old man’s last loss
of the plot earned him that right
to See-Saw-down the next-door-
the snoring sway of circumstance
snuffed out his chance to flee England-
while you soared, free.
Jacqui Thewless's Other Poems
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
R.I.P. Ivan Merritt...
and his son, Lloyd Merritt in October 2013.
Comments about this poem (The Plot (For The Poet, Lloyd Merritt and Ivan, His Dad) by Jacqui Thewless )
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