Lucy Dougan

 

This Only

 

Lucy Dougan

 

She rode to the abandoned house,
and getting up good speed,
she flirted with butterflies,
forgot about her hair.
Here, she would roll up her sleeves
and make an Eden for them both;
only this time
they would get it right.
So, when she had fought
the damp and the dodgy wiring,
and started on the mural in his bedroom,
she remembered to paint out the apple tree.
She had decided, you see, on the ride,
that if there was to be fruit for the picking
it would do for their jam at breakfast and
this only.

 

 

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