an old poem to clare ferguson
This is an old poem written for my colleague, Clare Ferguson long long time ago (1997 or 98). I’ve lost her since she’d moved to Spain with her husband. I got a letter from her but the address was hard to be seen. I tried several times but failed to reach her… So if anyone knows her, please let her know that someone from this far-away tiny place is still thinking of her!
Clare, don’t you remember this poem?
Five-week Freedom
poor clare
without husband
for five weeks long
until christmas
what will she do
for all these moments?
bury herself
in the kitchen?
cooking food
without a reason
will she use up
all the saucepans?
to kill the time
pretend her husband
is still by her side
enjoying the mutton…
oh poor woman
if u feel lonesome
just make some phonecalls
and chat with someone
or simply go out
to enjoy the freedom…
the FREEDOM of what?
to look for a PART-TIME HUSBAND!
