Ale-Wife
He turns on a gulp,
his mouth opening
once too often,
and I'm strum, venturer,
a night-worm
for his empty palm.
But this one talks to me
as if I'm a girl in a field
he rowed to under bridges
glimmering with a canal
stopped at midsummer.
He puts each coin
on the bar so carefully,
sliding me the gold of a day
he replays and replays.
Jackie Wills
Woman's Head as Jug
Arc, 2013
At the time of posting, Woman's Head as Jug is available from Foyle's Books for 30% off!
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