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Bluebells
It was a real life, I think, those days
Of fairgrounds, brandy-snaps and hook-a-duck,
Singing on waltzers, we were children in love
With sugared lips and clasping foxglove bouquets.
They show me a photo, a wedding, I think that’s me
And you. Outside the church of our childhood
Where tulips and bluebells have begun to bud,
Lacy veil catching blurred confetti.
They tell me stories, some of them are lost
Among the years of children, dust and age,
Thoughts of you that cling onto the edge;
But still there’s foxgloves, fairgrounds, candyfloss.
I don’t know Them and You are indistinct
And yet this life of ours was real, I think.
Alice Billin
StudentSchool of English
The University of Nottingham
Alice is a recent graduate from the University of Nottingham, where she studied English with Creative Writing. Having developed a fervour to understand language during her degree, she is currently pursuing a career researching language impairments such as those caused by dementia and strokes.
