
Strength for Today
She hurled her bone china cup
at the painting on the wall,
glass shattered, she screamed.
Black coffee dripped down
white washed stone.
Sobbing, she folded herself
into the Welsh rocking chair,
to and fro she rocked,
to and fro until
the light faded and
sheep were silent in the fields
outside her cottage window.
All night she dreamed,
replayed his leaving,
her discovery, his betrayal,
his selfish ultimatum –
He said it was her decision
whether he should leave,
but she couldn’t accept
his new found desire,
the one who he boasted had
“brought me back to life”.
So, she stayed alone.
Now the dawn was glowing
through the curtains,
the sheep were bleating,
cockerels crowing,
she stirred, staggered
to the door, pulled on
her warmest coat
and followed the farm dog
down the lane towards the
ramshackle shelter
which he shared with
orphaned lambs and
his two masters.
As she passed, they tipped their caps
and grunted, respectfully.
Past the poet’s house, the historian,
the new hippy family,
whose chimney was already smoking.
As she walked, she gained strength,
felt a sense of belonging
to this strange community.
Fine rain fell on her face
she looked up to see
a rainbow, stretching
from the mountains
across the valley,
framing her,
a fleck of paint,
in the vast landscape.
She reached the end
of the lane where
people park to picnic
and swim in the river,
sat down on the
damp pebbles,
staring into water
murky and deep,
contemplating
her next step.