Reads: 114  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: April 27, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 27, 2016



Ingrid's old man
was dead
his throat cut
in some drunken brawl

and left out
in the street
to bleed to death
I took Ingrid to Jail Park

to get her out of the flat
and give her mother room
to breath and get
organizing things

about a funeral
and answer
police questions
at the station

we crossed Bath Terrace
side by side
kids on bikes or scooters
rode by

a woman pegged washing
on a line on a high balcony
guess you'll miss him
I said

Ingrid looked ahead
yes I will I guess
she said
miss him not

beating you
and your mum
I said
he didn't always

do that
she said
he was till my dad
and he loved me

we entered the park
and walked along
the paths between
flowered gardens

funny way of showing it
I said
she looked at me
still my dad

she muttered
your brother and sister
left because of him
will they come back now?

I expect so
she said
for the funeral
and see how Mum is

and help with things
we entered the play area
and made for the swings
we got on a couple of swings

and began to push off
with our feet
who cut his throat?
I asked

don't know
she said
the police didn't know
we swung high

I noticed the sky
was a bright blue
white clouds
like woolly sheep

will you stay
around here?
I said
guess we will

she said
miss you if you left
I said
will you?

she said
sure I would
I said
I swung as high

as I could
my feet seeming
to touch clouds
maybe we can

marry one day
she said
we're only 10 years old
I said

plenty of time for that
she was swinging higher
than me now
her drab green dress

flapping in the updraught
guess so
she said
her voice carried off

in the air
her dress blew
up and out
but I didn't stare.

© Copyright 2018 dadio. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: