Footnote All the woes I listened to, all the fears I soothed, all the tricks I turned for you, all the rough I smoothed, all the fronts I wore for you, the vigils that I kept, all the brunt I bore for you, all the winks unslept - it all feels long ago today - the worry and the doubt, thinking what might be safe to say, trying to work you out. You were good at forgetting me - now when I think of you, it’s like a play I can’t recall but know that I sat through. It’s a shame I can’t remember all the ins and outs, who said what to whom, or what the fuss was all about. Then I’d be a proper poet - wistful, mournful, sad, finding novel poetic ways to say I feel bad. I’m glad there’s more to me than you - this much I can write - despite it all – you were never more than a1 to my life.
Lucia Ward lives and works in London. Her poetry has been commended in competitions and published in online journals.