An Ode To My Wicker Man (2004-2011)

So goodbye
My wicker man
Not THE Wicker Man
Because that would have been too impossibly cool
And might have resulted
In unwanted pilgrimages
To my garden
And probably would have underlined certain prejudices
About Norfolk
In the heads of outsiders
Passing through my town
On the way to cooler towns
Such as Holt
And Southwold
You were smaller than that
About the size
Of the corpse
Of the average
9th Century knight
But a size that nonetheless
Seemed impressive
When I bought you
From that garden centre
In Swaffham
In 2004
Along with a large bag
Of weed, feed and seed
And a trowel
Largely because the only
Previous wicker man
I'd owned
Had been
Smaller than most gnomes
You did well to get through the next couple of years
Particularly that time
During my 30th Birthday party
When my hippie friend Michael
Who seemed extra spaced-out that day
Was all for setting you alight
Life calmed down after that
For you
Disregarding the times
When my cats jetted hot piss
On your legs
And gradually, the ivy
In my hedge
Snaked its way
Around
Your crappy wooden ribs
I probably should have freed you
But it looked sort of ace
And added to your mystique
And to my fantasies
About making my garden
Resemble a mini Summerisle
But without the human sacrifice
Then last winter came
And it was a long one
And I got distracted
By work
And social networking sites
And women
The time flew by
With tentless heed
Until between the late and early
I went out to find you
With my friend Danny
The sky was blue
The wind was still
The moon was shining clearly
And you had gone
But where?
Carried off by some drunks in the night?
Or burnt?
Danny and I were mystified
And then I saw your rotten wooden bones
Scattered on the floor
Under our feet
I’ll not forget
That unhappy night
Among your ribs with Danny