Friday poem: 'Double Take'

By Kate Clanchy

I imagined that you'd miss me, thought
you'd pace your hardwood floor in odd
worn socks, watch the clock sit stuck,

get late to work, type my name caps lock,
press and hold shift/break, miss buses, meals,
or sit with fork half-way, lost, for minutes,

hours, sleep badly, late, dream chases, shake,
send fingers out to pad the pillow, find
my hollow, start awake, roll over, hug a gap,

an ache, take a walk, damp dawn, of course,
wrapped in a mac with the collar up, glimpse
a slice of face, tap a stranger's back, draw a blank;

as I have. Each time, I run to press your face
to mine, mine, shining with imagined rain.

From Kate Clanchy's Selected Poems

Kate Clanchy's poems are much broadcast, translated and anthologised. This Selected Poems draws together her three prize-winning collections, Slattern, Samarkand, and Newborn, published between 1996 and 2004. These are poems about men and boys, school and home, the foreign and the familiar, and the grand adventure of parenthood, but above all about love in all its forms, gathered together in a single volume. This volume is a perfect introduction to a witty, lyrical and truly accessible poet; and for long-term fans, an integrated and satisfying assembly of Clanchy's very best work.