79/ the pigeons return

From the fruit machine I had a three pint win.
I go over, smiling.
“I’ve got someone at home,” she says,
“I don’t need another one.”
A car door opened,
and across the car park someone ran.
I saw her turn, she had blue eyes,
I had the same.
Talking fast and rough, at me she looked,
“I remember you when I had my clothes off,
do you want it again?”

In the morning there was a holiday feel to everything.
And who can you make love to,
if you can’t make love to your best friend?
Around the days of December,
the rain pulls the sky down.
Into the corner shop I ran.
The children chase the pigeons,
the pigeons return.