Croft Row Poem by Sally Plumb Plumb

Nobody smiled
but the naive children
in the dust of hot summer,
playing games with dirt
and chickens.

Neat, wild pink flowers
straddled the grounds
hard walked surface
and cried if the rain
ever came.
Dirty dogs barked,
ate medicine grass
to cure their sores and hunger.
Rabbit skins were stored in bins
for ragmans pennies
and warmer things
made to muff hands
when a cold winter
froze it's outside tap
and the map of pavement
was erased.

Inside, fern frozen
bedroom windows,
beauty, iced windows
made strange reverence.




Waf