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

Submitted: April 01, 2016

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Submitted: April 01, 2016



I stand on the balcony
of the flats where I live

early morning
dry sky

the milkman
and his horse
drawn wagon
appears on my left
he is pulling the reins
and the horse trots onward
head in a nosebag eating

kids are playing
on the pram sheds or
in the Square

Enid comes along
my balcony towards me

she has no visible
bruising or bruises
no black eyes
or split lips

you're up early
I say
fall out of bed?

She shakes her head
no I had a lie in
and Mum got my breakfast
and Dad sat
and talked to me
about last night
and the meal we had
and the cinema afterwards
she says

still hasn't hit you
yet then or your mum?
I say

she shakes her head
and looks over the balcony

the milkman is right
below us now
and the horse
lowers its head
eating from the bag

has he gone all religious
your old man?
I say

she looks at me
don't know
he doesn't talk
about God or religion
or nothing
she says
but I am still fearful
that he will one day
hit me and Mum again
and leather me

she looks out
at the sky
it's in his eyes
that's where I look
she says
they tell me his moods
but at the moment
I can't see
like I did
is your dad religious?
She asks me

don't think so
I say

he never talks about God
he does sometimes say
o Christ
but that's usually
if he has no money
or something like that

she looks at me
and kisses my
9 year old cheek
with her 9 year old lips

hope my dad
is religious
she says
I don't want him
to become like
he was again

I feel her damp kiss
on my cheek
like an invisible stain.

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