Carry On

Simon MacCulloch

Now why do you concern yourself with crows, my dear?

Look there - so tame, I feed them on my hand.

And if you must be fussing over those, I fear

A husband who’s so easily unmanned

Is weak in love, so will not understand.

You seem to have a horror of the flies - for shame!

And you, who are a hunter, pale with fright

And frantic as you swat them from your eyes, poor game

For one who stalked the tiger through the night.

I scarcely dreamt your courage was so slight.

And then you go a-whimpering of the rats, who merely

Conduct themselves as Nature’s laws decree.

A shrinking in disgust and terror that’s too clearly

A cowardly retreat away from me.

A paltry welcome home, you must agree!

But even now I persevere in trust, sure time

Will reconcile you finally to our fate.

It’s fitting that you struggle to adjust; your crime

Impatience with our lawful wedded state -

So kiss, and taste the poison that I ate.

Simon MacCulloch lives in London. He is a regular contributor to Aphelion, Reach Poetry, The Dawntreader and Sarasvati.