Childhood morning

Morning has started

I listen from my bed

Birds chirping loudly

The electricity wakes

The shipping forecast

Talks from the bathroom

The kettle whistles

The shower hums

Familiar voices drift upwards

The clock strikes,

with 7 cuckoo chirps

the washing machine whirs

its on a top speed

and in just a moment

A voice will shout

Are you up yet?

As if you could sleep

through the electricity din

Of the house waking up

Once again.

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Still life

Day 12 of Napowrimo and the prompt was to use the index or contents of a book. So I chose Still Life by Richard Cobb, his sketches from a Tunbridge Wells Childhood.

As I approach in 1

I wonder about the locations in 22.

I can see the Sussex view in 28

Little Mount Sion in 34

I remember Grove Hill 37,

Where My Mother’s House lay 48.

Down the road were two people

i pluck from my memory.

The Black widow 56 and

Dr Rankling at 67.

At the bottom of the hill

still there today the church

King Charles the Martyr 71.

and the outside world 79,

from the Linbury-Buses 84

I looked through the doors and windows 93

The war memorial 106 was on my left

and i imagined my childhood journey,

in my pocket a secret map 124,

which chartered my holiday

a trip to the rocks, a ride on my bike

and ending with tea at Mr Evan’s 147

after all its still life.