Guest Poem by Stuart Handysides

Stuart Handysides began writing feature articles as a general practitioner, continued while working as an editor of medical publications, and in recent years has focused on poetry. His poems have appeared in various magazines and anthologies, and his play Gleaming for an Instant was performed on Zoom in 2020 during lockdown. He has run the Ware Poets competition for several years.

You might think we would talk

after Absent in the Spring. Mary Westmacott (Agatha Christie)

A desert station home for several days
no view to speak of, only space

our books already read, no outside world
no view to speak of, only space.

One day the train will just arrive.
We punctuate the time between our meals

with walks to nowhere in particular
alone. You seem preoccupied.

I try that look as well to save my face.
I’ve never felt so lost for words

no view to speak of, only space
between the last woman, the last man.