A Stone's Throw 1958 Poem by Terry Collett

I knocked
at Lydia's front door
there were voices
beyond the door.

Then the door opened
Lydia stood there.

Coming out?
I said.

Not sure
if I can
she said
they are rowing.

I looked at her
the unbrushed hair
lank and straight
her pale face
and staring eyes.

Why not?
don't they
always row?
I said.

Can't just ask
while they're rowing
Benny
she said.

Ok I'll be on
the fence round
the corner for awhile
I said.

She shut the door
I walked
round the corner
sat on the green fence.

The sun was out
but lukewarm
the sky was dull.

Rowing parents
was nothing new
but I had to admit
her parents rowed often
usually about her
old man's boozing.

The milk man
came past
on his horse
drawn cart
the brown horse
had a nosebag
looked disinterested
in his surroundings.

Lydia came
around the corner
and sat on the fence
next to me.

Can't go far
Dad said
not more
than a stone's
throw away
she said.

Depends who
is throwing
the stone
I said
and how far
they can throw.

You know
what I mean
Lydia said moodily.

So what do we do?
I said.

Talk about going
to Edinburgh
she said
on that steam train
we saw.

I mused
on the train
ok so when
and what we
will need
I said.

So we got
off the fence
and sat
on the grass
within a stone's throw
of her flat.

We talk
about going
to Edinburgh
on the steam train
but just as we got
to the list of things
it began to rain.