Impressions on the wood are getting harder to trace,
Her weight upon the boards has long since stepped away;
I always said I never learnt to savour the chase
But what peace in rest, in lying where she lay?
I’ll have to brace myself and make for the door,
To follow her route, cross these streets alone,
Grab the hat and scarf she wished I wore
Then swap our cooling boards for the frostbitten stone
Outside; and when I fail to find her on land
I’ll try the sea, where she was a favoured guest;
And when we cross back over I swear we’ll hold hands,
Cross my heart – or at least a vacant chest.
Beyond this threshold I cannot know
How far I have to go; but I will find her – she told me so.
Written by Sean Gibson. A version of this poem first appeared in The Circle 19: a Brussels Anthology (Idle Time Press, 2019).
‘She Told Me So‘ is a sonnet, based roughly on the Shakespearian style but with no adherence to any particular meter.
I’ve previously written sonnets that kept strictly to the style so I decided I should try something with more freedom to roam.