Life in Poetry
Jul. 9, 2017
94 Ranelagh Road Autumn 1947His birth home - threestories over basement -up ten granite stepsto the front doorVictorian grandeur- now a tenement -stairs and landingsoil lamp lit at nightA country family below stairswould bring turf - a lorry loadtipped overwrought ironspiked railings onto the grassThe boy - aged three in tiny dungareesequipped with anet shopping bagtraipsed turfsod at a timedown the longnarrow garden -in through the darkened flat to be well stacked out in the yardHe steady marched as the day went onthrough the drizzle -on important workLater in the evening- exhaustion then feverNext day an ambulance- his first near death
Beautiful poem Peter! Such an evoking image of a little boy in dungarees, and then - fever! Really moving.
25.11 | 22:15
Grief is experience through the mundane. Simple but powerful. The accompanying image really compliments the poem.
07.11 | 11:14
A great observation! Social media can be a scary place... I also need to reduce my time there
06.11 | 16:24
A great one, Peter, in the context you describe. I don't read social media myself, I doubt my equilibrium could stand it. 'The balance of his mind disturbed' yes, I think it would be.
06.11 | 15:59
Yes, gossip is a weapon of mass destruction.
In my business as well as personal life I have zero tolerance.
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