In a Restaurant
by Stephen Santus
This gesture I make to ask for the bill,
Writing on the air
With an imaginary ballpoint,
I learnt from Christopher,
Who learnt it from his father,
Who learnt it himself somewhere.
Christopher’s father is long dead:
He echoes less and less.
How strange that what survives of us
Is what we would hardly guess.
From The Bridport Prize.
Forward Prizes for Poetry
Winner Best Single Poem 2014
About Stephen Santus
Stephen Santus (b. 1948 Wigan) has been writing poetry since 1965. His interest was sparked by his older brother who loved to read poetry and Shakespeare aloud. Santus appreciates classical Chinese poets and the Japanese haiku and tanka writers for their delicacy and emotional accessibility. He teaches English in a language school in Oxford, having previously taught in France and Austria. He also admires Philip Larkin and his ‘ability to sneak deep truths past you when you think you are just having a pint and a chat at the bar’.
