Jill Sharp

 

 

An Audience with Dirk

Home at last from the Riviera, knowing
he must not look back

he walks Knightsbridge in dark chapeau
and shades. The grey light hurts.

At night, rehearsing his own lines –
memoir, novels – he is word

perfect. After the performance
a hushed procession wends

towards him and each advancing celebrant
drops their gaze,

suddenly shy to lay before him
their unread offering. One swift flourish

and he’s marked the pristine page
with a blue-black emblem,

raising his head, briefly, to show those
eyes.

The people find him gracious; but gods,
when they grow old, crave

adoration. How else are they to know
if there are still believers?

Jill Sharp’s work has appeared in 14, South, Crazy about Pipework, Domestic Cherry and IMPpress and she has a poem in the current edition of Poems in the Waiting Room.

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