If only I could say let’s meet at St Pancras,
not below the android-looking couple clinching
under the clock, but next to Betjeman’s statue,
crumpled, loveable, human.
You haven’t seen the station, done-up
in all its magnificence; that long, glitzy
champagne and oyster bar at the track’s edge.
I still don’t like oysters and you never tried them .
The first thing I’d do is talk about the children:
daughter as good as her word
never working for big business, our son
becoming an arts writer. I know it will never
happen, but if it did, I’d carry a whole
bunch of red carnations, so you couldn’t miss me.
Peter Phillips
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‘Red Carnations’ and ‘Ukraine Sunflower’ on page 19 are reprinted with permission from Peter Phillips’ new collection Saying it with Flowers (Ward Wood Publishing, London 2022). ‘Red Carnations’ is one of a set of three poems in memory of Linda Phillips, the poet’s wife. Saying it with Flowers is reviewed on page 27.
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