Odette's Musing. Poem by Terry Collett

He'll not come
not after what
he said
you know it
but can't accept it.

That's how it is
no no
a voice says.

You know it
but maybe he'll
take it in his stride
me just me
being me
you muse.

You hold a hand
over your mouth
tears come
why do we do that
when we are
about to cry
hold a hand
over our mouths?

He'll not come
I know he won't
you let the words
talk in your head
just as well
he can't mind read.

He could
have had me
if he'd only asked
and not just
did those things.

Things
become watery
as your eyes
fill with tears
and your throat
becomes sore
with the crying.

Soft crying
Mother used
to say.

Like when
your father
(brute of a man)
would belt you one
for something
or other
and you'd
cry softly.

He'll not
come now
not after
what was said.

The garden
looks a mess
you see it
as you stand
by the window
of your room.

The apple trees
and filling
with fruit
wasps go
in and out
of the fallen fruit.

He'll not come
not now.

I want him to
but there again
don't somehow.