Back In Time Poem by poppy miller

I go back to the dutch house
With the bottle green walls
Where depression hung like stalactites
Relieved once a year on Christmas day.

Back to the cupboard in the wall
With its bits of this and that, that still linger
Black and white photos of coloured times
Spent in grateful solitude of clover meadows

Back to taste the left over pastry
Hot from the oven, dripping margarine
Belly fillers (for want of sterling)
But without the indigestion.

Back to greet my ten siblings
Running through the bracken
With red rings round legs
From the constant wear of wellies.

Back to the dust and dirt of my breeding
Wondering could I live again in the place
Where the stalactites have hardly melted
The place I fled from, the place called home.

I stand and listen to hear its calling
To feel its want in my gut
But what I feel is a rumbling
My feet already going forward


30/4/2016.
1pm.