Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Your mother says goodbye to you her eyes are red she's been crying. She and father had rowed during the late evening and night. You climb down the concrete stairs of the flats. The morning is dull a grey sky greets you. Benny waits for you at the bottom. He looks at you how's things? he says. You try smiling but he knows you're not happy. They rowed again yesterday and last night you tell him. He nods but says nothing. You walk on through the Square and down the slope. What they row about? he asks. Money I think you say. You cross Rockingham Street and go up Meadow Row. He talks about other things trying to take your mind off the rowing and home life. You cross the bomb site listening to him aware of his hazel eyes and quiff of brown hair. You want to say how unhappy you are how you didn't sleep too well. But you walk beside him let him do the talking. You remember how you were fearful your father would enter your room while they rowed and hit you one as the row spilt over in the passageway. But he didn't that time they moved into their room and closed the door and rowed the more.
0
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 2:20 AM UTC
ENID AND THE ROW 1957
Your mother says goodbye to you her eyes are red she's been crying. She and father had rowed during the late evening and night. You climb down the concrete stairs of the flats. The morning is dull a grey sky greets you. Benny waits for you at the bottom. He looks at you how's things? he says. You try smiling but he knows you're not happy. They rowed again yesterday and last night you tell him. He nods but says nothing. You walk on through the Square and down the slope. What they row about? he asks. Money I think you say. You cross Rockingham Street and go up Meadow Row. He talks about other things trying to take your mind off the rowing and home life. You cross the bomb site listening to him aware of his hazel eyes and quiff of brown hair. You want to say how unhappy you are how you didn't sleep too well. But you walk beside him let him do the talking. You remember how you were fearful your father would enter your room while they rowed and hit you one as the row spilt over in the passageway. But he didn't that time they moved into their room and closed the door and rowed the more.
A BOY AND GIRL IN LONDON 1957
TerryCollett
Written by
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 2:20 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem