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Poem by Mary Hobson

* * *

Perhaps Ive 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.
Ive played their comfortable game.
How could they know?

14th July, 2001

Mary Hobson

Mary Hobson's other poems:
  1. Laundry Blues
  2. The Counsellors
  3. Summer in Zaraisk or Who wrote Shakespeare?
  4. Waterloo Station
  5. Now I will always know that you died

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