Tuesday, 8 May 2018

now upon the pillow of my childhood

now upon the pillow of my childhood
that seducer of thoughts
although many a tear
was shed in secret there
many a fear
was caressed to sleep 
down the corrugated black lanes 

where every boy and girl is blended
into our childhood pal 
gilded of grime
slicing the sunshine into the ways
of the days that ran
tumbling wings-on-heels
eyes screaming laugh-wide
and nostrils full of the pollen 
from corners around corners

the high jumps or the hands and knees 
down amongst the clod turned bugs
and bitten by the webs of breath
that rasped in the stitch of beating
the boundaries of our growing domain

every ruin reborn in a fantasy 
bartered and battled between friends 
in dreams upon the warm-handed stones
and clawed close beneath fingernails
of hands that clapped in gingham chases 

or seated tight in conversation 
not on the ruins 
of the grownup’s somewhere else 
but here on our seats 
with the sun’s breath hot upon our necks
that promised this day is yours
those were the seats

so is this is why I push my face
deep into the pillow of my childhood
where my clenched eyes are dry of the tears
that flowed so readily back then
upon grazed knees that beg to go back 
but the castles of summer have fallen
and yet the gold dust is


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