A Place

A Place  

Where the back garden was actually a side garden,

a hide-away

where I could play,

and still see the comings and goings on the street.

Where I was the only one,

a single child

within soft fences and green hedges

where hedgehogs crept through at night

when they thought nobody was looking

to eat potato peelings we left out.

Where Dad painted window frames

telling me not to touch the sills-;

little fingerprints crimped the surface.

He forgave me quickly

wiping my fingers with a cloth

and turps.

The strong pungent smell

made me think it would remove my finger tips.

Where a mouse got into the kitchen

and we tried to catch it.

I hid in the lounge room,

knelt with my little plastic kettle

at the base of the door

ready to trap it if it ran under.

Dad must have caught it and put it out again.

Where Grandpa lived in the same cul-de-sac

two doors down, waiting for me.

We sat on his deckchair

he moved around the lawn;

pulling up weeds,

handing out memories.

I was at kindy when he died

suddenly,

at their kitchen table

with his head down

as if he were asleep.

Where I was Grandpa’s shadow

and life was simple:

playing with Dolly

hedgehogs in the grass

catching mice in a kettle,

and the unexpectedness of life.

~

(won First Prize FAW Annual Poetry Competition 2012)    

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About juliehyndman

Writing, poetry, art and life in general
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to A Place

  1. As beautiful as those memories.

  2. Really love the first seven lines… well done on the win.

  3. Thanks Noela, and thanks for following my work, it means alot!! I’m going to Alex Mitchell’s Book Planning Workshop on Thursday so hopefully I’ll get my book dream happening soon, stay tuned!!!!

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