Up on the Roof


To ballast the loose things in my head and get away from the others in my flat I’d sometimes go up onto the roof.  Across those noisy London streets I could only just make you out, up over there, equally alone on your equally flat roof. Perhaps it would have been good to meet and laugh and exchange a special look but I never did work out who you were or where you lived.

And now, I’ve come to think that being vague and distant remained your greatest strengths: perfect for the pointing out of amusingly-shaped clouds, the Etch-a-Sketch jet trails in the sky and some embarrassing waving over and above the traffic.  This was the closest we could ever get, I now understand, to singing a horse with no name at the top of our voices outside a fetching café in an unspecified European city.


9 thoughts on “Up on the Roof

    1. Exactly right! Thanks so much for the feedback. This little piece is also a metaphor for blogging as well – as you’ve probably guessed – waving randomly at people you only know in a shadowy, virtual way from a great distance….[friendly wave follows….]

      Liked by 2 people

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