Heat. Around the fruit bowl like flies,
dripping from the fridge handle,
the upturned door numbers
dropping from the hallway creak.
The single periwinkle house
beckoned heat down to us.
Summer’s fingers run tracks
through window droplets.
Short visit. Long weekend.
We measure out our stay
at Askew Road, London
in the hexagons of limescale,
its ones or twos at the bottom
of the mug, or the tip of the tongue,
if unlucky.
Can you hear it? The long time, coming?
Long time coming, the faceless cavalry
down Askew Road.
The heat of it.
The neighbours rattling their keys.
The people have stopped parking their cars.
The buses are carving a new route away.
We’ve become our mother’s daughters,
father’s sons
we could leave for home
or obey the heat.
Katherine Stockton is a Welsh Playwright and Poet, who’s writing can be found in Ink, Sweat and Tears and Iceberg Tales. She was the runner up in the Hestercombe Gardens Poetry Competition 2019. She tweets @katie_stockton.
