Remember When We
Were Young And
Token sunshine beamed down to bless us
Though we'd flick it away,
And the hazel of all kind hazel eyes
Looked on benevolently, even as we glowered
Back at the air, turned to the dark corner,
To the cleft in the hedge by the path
In the dark corner of the field, to the west,
When our ideas dreamed along the old train line,
Driven to be driven at the line's behest?
We grew up in plotted towns, chucking
Stones at blackbirds, spraying 'FUCK YOU'
On the front of the school; we were
Exactly right and pitifully beautiful.
If you've any comments on this poem, Sam Brenton would be
pleased to hear from you.