Fleur Adcock Poems
|4.||At The Crossing||8/28/2017|
|5.||The Belly Dancer||8/28/2017|
|7.||The Man Who X-Rayed An Orange||1/11/2016|
|8.||Leaving the Tate||11/26/2015|
Comments about Fleur Adcock
After they had not made love
she pulled the sheet up over her eyes
until he was buttoning his shirt:
not shyness for their bodies- those
they had willingly displayed- but a frail
endeavour to apologise.
Later, though, drawn together by
a distaste for such 'untidy ends'
they agreed to meet again; whereupon
they giggled, reminisced, held hands
as though what they had made was love-
and not that happier outcome- friends.