how I remember these things

there was a worn carpet laid on bare boards

holding only the centre of the room

two chairs either side of the open fire

a sofa & a high table we sometimes ate at

curtained windows either end

that in winter had frost on the inside

my little room had cowboys on the paper

thick rough blankets & in winter coats piled on too

it is the biting cold I remember most

cold feet on cold floors cold coming in

cold going out cold weather cold people

cruel carers who took the money & ran

& these would steal my few toys for their kids

nothing stayed nothing stuck mother run away

father always absent a ghost figure tired pale

& I never knew from one day to next

would any of these be there when I got home

within the walls of this cold place of no food

always gut hungry for anything going

& now when they say you ever coming home?

I tell them I find the north too cold prefer the south

& they try to tell me I’m a too sensitive soul

but we know better I’m a soul with strong memories

remembers the cold remembers how it lingers on