I was just out walking one lunchtime, down an old railway track now a walking route, and saw someone had dropped a piece of paper. It was an unusual list of penciled items, and it made me wonder what lay behind it …
Blue print said ‘Redevelopment Planning Consent’
the obverse stanza, scanned, less clear.
Having fluttered from pocket to leaf litter
I hoped it was remembered better than the fall.
It began simply enough with ‘Bra’
‘Slippers’, weaving narrative out of clothes to
cleaning tasks and things to take until arriving at
felt, and sewing: what was felt? … a needless thread.
Sometime folded in four, pristine and neat
containing aspirations, maybe hopes, intent
maybe consent, planning redevelopment with
ideas and reminders to be stitched, to wear.
Was she walking her dog, to return this way,
would she notice her script on the leaves?
Was it enough to write and remember
the list, or was it just an inclination?
2015 © Andie Davidson