INGRID'S EAR.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDON

Submitted: March 02, 2014

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Submitted: March 02, 2014

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Ingrid's right ear
was still numb
where her father
hit her head

as she climbed the stairs
to Benedict's flat
and knocked at his door
he's in the Park

I think Ingrid
or try the bomb site
on Meadow Row
his mother said

so she climbed down
the stairs
her eyes
filled with tears

her hearing like
she was under water
swimming
she crossed the Square

and over Bath Terrace
into the Park
passed by
the flowers beds

the trees
the wire fence
coming into view
her eyes scanned

through the wire
to see if he was on
the swings
but he wasn't

she entered the playground
and searched
but he wasn't there
her heart sank

low ebb feeling
she walked back
through the Park
along the path

and crossed
Bath Terrace
and back through
the Square

passed kids
playing skip rope
or football
some playing a tag game

running
here and there
she walked down
the slope

and over
Rockingham Street
passed the fish mongers
up the narrow pavement

passed the houses
her eyes watery
looking up the Row
hoping he'll be there

passed the public house
where her father went
and got drunk
and round

into the narrow
side road
where the bomb site
spread before her eyes

the coal wharf
on her right
horses and wagons
still there

she scanned the site
walked to the edge
her heart thumping
her eyessearching

and there he was
over by the wall
of a bombed out house
2 walls gone

roof blown off
him standing there
picking up stones
she called his name

he turned and waved
she hurried towards him
over bricks
and stones

and chickweed
to where he stood
2 small stones
in his hand

been looking for you
she said
her voice
on the edge

of breaking
what's the matter?
he said
but guessed

saw her watery eyes
her tone of voice
my ear hurts
she blurted out

and held her right ear
with her hand
your old man?
he said

she nodded
and cried
and Benedict
hugged her

his 9 year old arms
about
her thin shoulders
they stood

in the recess
of the bombed out house
sunlight pushing
through the tile less roof

unsure
what to say or do
he kissed her hand
and ear

a catapult wedged
in the back pocket
of his jeans
the small stones

held tight
in his left hand
he kissed the ear again
hoping

it would help
to heal the pain.


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