On 21 Louise Street

On twenty-one Louise street,

Just down from the University,

There is a well appointed flat with a window,


Atop a front yard,

Where the unkempt,

Old park bench and Lamp post sits.

Where he spends his time,

At a finer made desk.


Pondering the finest Literary Points,

of Plot and Play written,

With books stacked, in easily achievable order,

Between stacks of graded term papers and notes.


And, Every Friday across the street at the Pub...


It is... Hello Wentworth,

Nice to meet you Professor Wentworth,

Care for a Pint my good man?

How are you Old Chum?

"Cheers" Old man!..


Where he sits in the window seat,

with his pint and Times,

reading the statistics of today's coming Match


And, each weekend it is the same thing,

Spending the afternoon going over,

The contents in the big Manila envelope,

That He removed from his desk.

Replacing all his sticky notes, diligently.


Re-writing, re-making each one,

Considering each page of the brief completely,

That her Solicitor sent him weeks ago,

Contemplating the plot of the last Play,

That he will never write to her...




Written by Daniella Nikolayeva; 1/11/2020

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Starward's picture

Although sad, this poem is

Although sad, this poem is most enjoyable.


dannigirl933's picture

sad, yes, I saw it happen to

sad, yes, I saw it happen to a neighbor, he remains after many many years of his marage in the dark. It was a shame for both of them. it made me feel single at 32 is not so bad. I was told it was a bad divorce. they were in their 50's. sign of the times now i think.

Daniella Nikolayeva