Dark Around The Light

I was four years old when I was taken to the Home.
They were singing hymns, “Jesus bids us shine,”
and “Open up your heart and let the sun shine in,”
but the light that shone on the mouth
of the dark well into which I’d been cast
was not from the sun but some nightmare world
where jackals sing their part in “Let’s Pretend.”
But I was lucky. When I was hauled into their light
they could see I was too ugly to be taken as a bum boy
on that first night and they thought I might tell.
They were right and it still hurts fifty years on.

I didn’t know here when she would laugh.

I didn’t know her in the Air Force
when they’d turn the water off
to see fat Gwennie’s titties wobble
when she jumped up and down in the cold
saying Sure the Devil must like me dirty
to steal the water away.

I didn’t know her when she would laugh.

My father was a soldier
He fought for land and wife.
A broken man, they brought him home
To live the better life

And I didn’t know her when she would laugh.

* * * *

in apple blossom time

the blackbird
on the leafless branch
stares with empty eyes

Mum wakes up frightened again
and stares at the distant wall

the sun’s last rays
shine through the window
onto the empty bed

in the dark I wait for apple blossom time
beyond the pain  

© Peter Macrow