A poem of childhood
Hammersmith 1955
Pork, onion, sage and sawdust tweaked my nose.
Veal and ham pies - I wondered how they'd taste.
A crowded butcher's. Somehow I misplaced
my parents. When a sudden panic rose
I didn't cry. I knew that I was six
and had a baby sister now. I ran
along the street, and when some helpful man
offered his help, ran faster, knew the tricks
of strangers. Stopped, knew that I knew the way
and plodded home, two miles. My parents cried.
when I got there. They had been terrified
And I was not. Appalled and thrilled that day
learned I could lose them, that when I had grown
I'd have to find my home again alone.
Pork, onion, sage and sawdust tweaked my nose.
Veal and ham pies - I wondered how they'd taste.
A crowded butcher's. Somehow I misplaced
my parents. When a sudden panic rose
I didn't cry. I knew that I was six
and had a baby sister now. I ran
along the street, and when some helpful man
offered his help, ran faster, knew the tricks
of strangers. Stopped, knew that I knew the way
and plodded home, two miles. My parents cried.
when I got there. They had been terrified
And I was not. Appalled and thrilled that day
learned I could lose them, that when I had grown
I'd have to find my home again alone.
