Poems
[ Bethan Keogh ]

Things it’s still a joy to experience after thirteen years loving a place:

Rue des rosiers, almost empty on a Saturday morning. 
(Even if it makes you crave breakfast falafel).

Walking down the champ de mars on the hour after dark. 
(Even if you want to judge the tourists who clap). 
For who are you to yuck their yum? 

Waiting for a friend in a little postage-stamp sized park, 
that you must have walked past a thousand times, but you swear didn’t even exist until now. 

Finally pushing the doors of that little deli, you assumed would be great and discovering the cheesecake takes like that place from your first ever Sunday, 
after a down pour 
in the back corner of your Chinese restaurant shelter. 
Discretely unwrapped from its foil while you clutched a jasmine tea. 

A full circle moment 
A celebration worthy of thirteen. 

Star gazing 

Every year that passes I think my life has peaked.
and couldn’t possibly get any better 
And then I take a train to sit in a field with a glass of red wine with a friend that I made before I was even twenty-five 
and we look at the stars with the love of her life and I exclaim,
“When we look at the stars, we look at the past.” 
And I realise I still have years left to shine.