Gerald Parker : Writing

What Remains

What Remains

A Poem by Gerald Parker


Is this all that's left?asks my son, just dropping in.The inlaid wooden chestmy father made with lovewhen they were first marriedserved in four houses..
Playtime

Playtime

A Poem by Gerald Parker


It's as if nothing's changed:they go gallopingout,trample through the seagulls' camp,secure slowly round and close corrals. Young manes flutter, head..
Waiting at the Station

Waiting at the Station

A Poem by Gerald Parker


When, without stopping, an expresstrain has hurtled through a station,the commuters do not perceivehow much older the people oppositegrew while their ..
Parkland Tryst

Parkland Tryst

A Poem by Gerald Parker


From the starlit lakea suggestion of mist drifts towards the benchwhere I sit every time.I'm slow and often late, but she forgives me,graciously as al..
Aegrotat

Aegrotat

A Poem by Gerald Parker


Gary was going to Grenoble,dropping me off in Lyon.It wasn't the Boulevard Périfériquethat terrified me in '64,it was his nerves.Back fo..
On a School Leavers' Outing

On a School Leavers' Outing

A Story by Gerald Parker


"Are your parents still alive?"Mary asked, in May 1996.There was a sort of yellowy glow in the light brown sky. The day would be hot and sticky."Expec..
On the Underground

On the Underground

A Poem by Gerald Parker


Our train is delayed, passenger taken ill at Liverpool Street; we have to stand behind the yellow line, says the announcement, omitting the de..
The Street

The Street

A Story by Gerald Parker


I kept asking myself why. Why was I going back? Would you? Will you? Why?The M1 and then the M6, mile after mile, and this question kept nagging me, l..
A Visit to the Southbank, London

A Visit to the Southbank, London

A Story by Gerald Parker


“Endless. The possibilities are endless.” I like it. In fact, I tell my wife. She claims she noticed it first. We’ll never agree. Ou..
Accident at Frinton-on-Sea

Accident at Frinton-on-Sea

A Story by Gerald Parker


It was a case of just sitting tight and waiting. Eventually the words would come. I was going to be a writer - just like that. I would write a story, ..