Poem by Mary Hobson

* * *

Perhaps I’ve tried too hard
to hide my grief.
But I am always on my guard
lest I should undermine the widely-held belief
that I can be the same,
unchanged, undamaged by the blow.
Well – friends are not to blame.
I’ve played their comfortable game.
How could they know?

1. The Counsellors
2. Snow in Zaraisk
3. Waterloo Station
4. Laundry Blues
5. Now I will always know that you died

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