• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 11
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I Smell You

I smell you - my childhood
You fill my nostrils first
Then all my senses too
‘Til strong and clear
My memory follows

I smell you -
Pretty clementine
Promising orangey heaven
But resisting my bitten-nailed efforts
To tear apart your parts
Then suck up your sticky juice
And gobble down your liberated flesh
Mind the pips!
You don’t want a tree growing in your tummy!

I smell you -
So nearly pristine plastercine
Worked hard to soften
Between urgent, ardent little hands
To mould rippling waves
Then mountain ranges
And finally, a rolled up, always-puckered ball
Keep it on the tray!
We don’t want any getting trodden into the carpet!


I Smell You

I smell you -
Pitch-black coal
So pungent on damp winter days
Shovelled noisy into the old tin bucket
Necessity demanded
Then grit-hard pressing into soft skin
And stoic-borne on puny arms delivered
Remember the coal dust too!
We don’t waste in this house!

I smell my childhood
And I remember!