Newmarket Part V

I’m pretty sure Newmarket

was a 1950’s housewife

turning to the woman next door

after surveying the farm houses,

rows of corn in the distance,

bungalows closer up,

sleepiness,

and asked

‘Gladys, was I always like this?

I seem to think I used to be a little more wild.

Maybe some deer and berry bushes

and water running on its own course.

I think perhaps, over time

I’ve lost my nature.

I think there used to be more life to me.

I’m not quite sure what happened.’

Newmarket—me—I would say this

before handing over a jello salad

walking towards the clothes line,

ready to do the starching.