A heart can beat only so many times,
Jane\u2019s dentist announces, probing her gum,
and, while it\u2019s in mind, lists other organs
none of us ought to take for granted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jane and her dentist don\u2019t notice for now
the warmer than average morning in March
persuading hesitant horse chestnut buds
to open and let some sunshine in,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
and a carpet delivery van parallel
parking, and Keith outside K. C. Carpets
asking it where it was yesterday.
His carpet-buyers don\u2019t know about Keith,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
next Monday\u2019s appointment, because that\u2019s the way
he plays his cards (i.e. close to his chest,
which happens to be the focus for Monday),
but if he sat where Jane\u2019s sitting he might<\/p>\n\n\n\n
elaborate on his woes to the dentist,
whose green dental scrubs are impersonal enough
to invite confidences from even Keith.
Well, every organ\u2019s days are numbered,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
the dentist would tell him: pancreas, liver,
kidneys, oesophagus, gallbladder, spleen \u2013
any or all might keel over tomorrow.
Meanwhile, he\u2019d say, let\u2019s attend to that tooth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Soon the van has delivered and gone, 0\u00b0 (FEELS LIKE -5\u00b0)<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Instead of warming cold fingers this morning, Not having bothered with wellies (or gloves), How we detached any I don\u2019t remember. and tippling it into an old zinc bucket, Feels like minus five has set in for the day. DECEMBER SKY AND A NOISE<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Clouds like a watercolour across the layer of mist. fly indirect to a tousle to post-Christmas thundery which, passing over, like two Typhoons Then the planes fade, AUNT CLARA, PAT AND BILLY FURY<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Last summer Pat helped us carry our cases I hadn\u2019t seen her in jeans before. I knocked after tea, and her mum\u2019s voice called, Tinker walked me through alleys with dustbins Aunt Clara said, \u2019Him? Oh, that\u2019s Billy Fury. If Aunt Clara meant to explain, she forgot. Robert Etty<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n ORGAN RECITAL A heart can beat only so many times,Jane\u2019s dentist announces, probing her gum,and, while it\u2019s in mind, lists other organsnone of us ought to take for granted. Jane and her…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":1423,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[17],"tags":[29],"class_list":["post-1422","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poetry","tag-january-2026"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.openbook.org.uk\/NLR\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/brokenchain.png","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.openbook.org.uk\/NLR\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1422","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.openbook.org.uk\/NLR\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.openbook.org.uk\/NLR\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.openbook.org.uk\/NLR\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.openbook.org.uk\/NLR\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1422"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.openbook.org.uk\/NLR\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1422\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.openbook.org.uk\/NLR\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1423"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.openbook.org.uk\/NLR\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1422"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.openbook.org.uk\/NLR\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1422"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.openbook.org.uk\/NLR\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1422"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
more buds have opened, more patients are waiting,
and twelve hundred heartbeats, more or less, have been
pumping blood through Jane, Keith and the dentist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.openbook.org.uk\/NLR\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/CLheader-1024x99.png\")
<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
these gloves are warming a cold memory
of a Saturday where there\u2019s a golf course now,
when the pond in Joe Watkinson\u2019s second field
was still iced over at past dinner time,
but under the long grass and through the ice
the two of us spotted frogspawn jelly
at edges and in corners, and wanted some.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
we cracked the ice with a nearby thick stick,
raised it off the surface in wedges
and skimmed them onto the green and white grass.
Then we knelt, sank our hands, grabbed, and realised
we\u2019d chanced on unusually home-loving frogspawn
which elongated itself so far and then
flubbered back into the water at speed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What I remember is cradling it
over Watkinson\u2019s field and along the lane,
and how the cold we\u2019d thought we could deal with
numbed our cupped hands until they turned violet,
and not knowing whether to weep, yell, or faint,
and aching to throw the frogspawn somewhere.
Except that this wasn\u2019t the point. Then reaching home<\/p>\n\n\n\n
and running inside, where the fire wasn\u2019t lit,
and frozen hands burning with heavy heat.
We diagnosed full-blown cases of hotache,
for which the traditional cure was to shudder
until blood flow resumed normal service,
relief filtered through from inside the shirt cuffs,
and lifting a biscuit looked feasible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
These same ten digits aren\u2019t suffering yet
from symptoms of hotache, but tingling enough
to waken the recollection above \u2013
not that it cuts any ice, obviously.
Still, here they all are, in gloves with fleece linings,
about thirteen miles from where the pond was.
And here\u2019s a winter, preparing for frogspawn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
of clouds are hanging
over the fields. Somewhere
a loudness throws its voice<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Two magpies flap and glide
to one side in a race to finish
second, and wood pigeons<\/p>\n\n\n\n
of ivy. Perching birds call
on their knowledge of storms,
but find no reference<\/p>\n\n\n\n
booming at zero degrees.
Still, they\u2019re unruffled
by all the commotion,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
sounds less like thunder
and more (as surely
as needn\u2019t matter)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
adhering to schedule
at speeds a pigeon
or magpie derides.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
the clouds are hanging,
and birds hold their peace
before the next sound.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
up to the bedrooms at Aunt Clara\u2019s house
in the far-end terrace on Finningley Road,
but now she leaned on her front wall next door
swishing gnats with a rolled-up Jackie.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I asked if the shop still sold penny ice lollies
and had she caught many sticklebacks yet.
She lifted her eyes to Doncaster\u2019s heavens,
which seemed to advise that she shouldn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018She\u2019s watching Emergency Ward 10 now.\u2019
Aunt Clara said, \u2018Yes, well, Pat\u2019s always busy.
It\u2019s \u2026 I don\u2019t know how long since she dropped by.
But you can walk Tinker without Pat, can\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
and hot clouds of dust on the Great North Road.
Elmfield Park took a whole afternoon,
and when we came back Pat was opening their door
to a tall boy in bronze jeans, who laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He stacks the wood at the wood yard. Pat, you know \u2013
sometimes I see her go past, and I ponder.\u2019
But Tinker didn\u2019t bother to ponder
and led me in search of new alleys and bins.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Billy and Pat ignored Tinker and me.
They sat on the wall in the long, violet dusks,
and their talking and laughing rose and fell
at the open window before I slept.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"