The House Carpenter

No cadence found at women's singing club

for me, no way to make my sentence song

I've lost my lilt I'm down in tuneless talk;

the women drop their bows with doleful eyes

They rise and trail their skirts along the tiles

though when they sat their legs were smooth and bare

Shirley Collins weeps and Dolly too

to see my urge to merely sit and speak

apologies to all around the room

to all to whom I no longer belong