by Jude Cowan Montague
My thoughts are almost extinct.
A person can't see far down the road,
and my home life was interrupted.
So when you ask me what I meant
I can't tell you much about Susan.
She passed away, two or three years ago,
her last years spent over their former shop
where she could see the library
and tired bus queues. But all the rest,
as far as I know, is very small.
We had a summer, once, living out
of a sandwich box, tripping to blue places.
In the autumn she met the rain.
He had two daughters and flapped in circles.
He was as old as our daddy.
She used to put her feet in the best places,
she'd climb so far and when she slipped,
fell right into the arms of the weather.
He caught her on his wings and said,
you are standing on flat ground.
The sun began to go down on the side
of the buildings, which hummed a velvet
tone. They went off to sleep, one by one,
and dreamed a dream just like you
and I, when we get to dream.
It's raining now, but when it stops,
if you look through the strata you might
comprehend levels on which birds whirl
above the rain. And underneath,
sliding in skywater, there's Susan's cloud.
* * * * *
"Never Worry" was first published in Jude Cowan Montague's pamphlet The Originals (Hesterglock Press).
Jude Cowan Montague worked for Reuters Television Archive for ten years. Her album 'The Leidenfrost Effect' (Folkwit Records 2015) reimagines quirky stories from the Reuters Life! feed. She produces 'The News Agents' on Resonance 104.4 FM. Her most recent book is The Originals (Hesterglock Press, 2017).