True Crime by Sharon Phillips

If there was music
it was a chart hit, spilling
from a bar’s open door.

She might have smelled
fag smoke and beer.

No lights were slanted
to gloss her blonde hair
or the swell of her breasts,

no microphone picked up
the echo of her steps.

No-one offered her a lift
so she didn’t turn it down or,
later on, wish she’d said yes;

if anyone saw her pass by,
nobody took any notice.

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Sharon gave up writing poetry in 1976 and started again forty years later, after her retirement. In between, she brought up two children and worked as a teacher and manager in post-16 education. Sharon's poems have been published on line and in print, most recently in Poetry Birmingham, Snakeskin, About Larkin and Poetry in Public. 

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