Sunday, March 10, 2013

The Boy

The boy doesn't remember his mother
not like you remember yours
he sees fuzzy images
faint like 19th century photographs
blurred around the edges.

He remembers red hair and cigarettes
lipstick and makeup
sharp cheekbones and
wide clever eyes
he knew she was smart.

The boy recalls playing in mud
and a mongrel dog named Easter
a new housing estate with
timber skeletons to play with,
an orchard with a tractor which
came to life and rumbled towards him.

The boy remembers the day everything changed
walking with his father
along a new street to a different house,
but then he turned four and
couldn't remember his mother.

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