A jam jar with string around the top,
thirty two sticklebacks and minnows caught,
Swimming in the paddling pool in the park,
In my pants with snow falling all around.
The secret pond hidden in a hut,
Brick wall and tin-roof
And a special pool inside
Full of frogs and two hundred years
Beyond Erasmus Darwin’s need.
A tin bath used as a boat,
On a faraway pond
Long lost to school playing fields…
On the same pond : frozen,
Skating with my shiny shoes…
And where the willow wept
The ice broke, fickle as fate,
And I’m soaked and shoes sodden…
A spanking awaits… For sure.
The strangeness only in their significance,
The place they occupy in my memory,
And the shelf-space they deny
Long forgotten memories…
Which may have more meaning.
Copyright Dale Beck 2018