“Rievaulx Terrace”

by  Richard Fletcher

Published: June 24, 2009

                    We embraced
          and gazed down
          on the Abbey
ideally made for Sundays.

          Hayfever on hold
                    with hair
braided purely for the hell;
coloured beads on the end
                    competing with holes
                    in her jeans.

                    They reserved my seat
and set up a famous entrance
                    where trueness
          sprang out to dazzle.
The most I’d ever eaten
          at a single sitting
but the real bursting delight
          was me not changing
          during the meandering course
                    of it

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