The Orange by Wendy Cope
1. It is past one on a Monday, my mind still on the evening before. The day before. Mostly because it was quiet. Go to sleep, my sister whispered to me in the afternoon, as if that explained everything. We lie
Exchange of Letters by Wendy Cope
Dear M., I will find the time to write you a longer letter. But yes, a whole universe of yes, about us finding each other, and the whys of that. I'm lucky to have you, know you. Maybe, in a world
Some More Light Verse by Wendy Cope
Almost one in the morning, am back at my desk working. Listening to Mozart to calm my nerves. I've seen less than ten people for the last week, and I'm beginning to get anxious at my becoming a hermit again.
Loss by Wendy Cope
This. Loss Wendy Cope The day he moved out was terrible — That evening she went through hell. His absence wasn't a problem But the corkscrew had gone as well. — This is from Serious Concerns by Wendy Cope, published by Faber and Faber, 1992.
Two Cures for Love by Wendy Cope
We talked about intuition and dreams today. Here's a recurring dream: I am flying, but maybe I am seated. I am looking down. I am looking at my feet, and what is beneath them: clouds, air, land from a distance.