I walked down the old streets of childhood

wearing similar ill fitting shoes

& the memories were blackbirds pecking

heckles of ancient wounds

they told me I was a clumsy foolish child

an ugly, unwanted clown

it felt much like now in my poor shoes

with my old feet aching for release.

Back then we climbed trees if we hurt

& swinging our feet absent of shoes

looked down on torment like a flightless bird.

My teeth ached from the clench in my jaw

carrying around this scoured pain in my stomach

I watched a kids balloon get lost in the sky

& glad of my adult freedom

took off my shoes & walked in the grass

it was wet & unknown, some places cold

the feeling overcome me of something ancient & known

like a boy who threw rocks once, from a high run down wall

smiled now as I passed, not knowing at all

the very caste of hate gentles in time’s strange storm

& so I was the child with a bellyful of pain

who smiled radiant & strangers said to themselves

there must be magic in her softening make.

4 Replies to “The song bird”

  1. So long it is now
    er I trod my streets
    of childhood
    near forty years
    since even a drive by
    at the thought memory
    calls up pictures
    I wonder oddly perhaps
    were they elms then
    shading that street
    were they blighted long since
    an cut and gone
    imagination balks, goes dim
    asked what I’d feel
    what I’d recall
    to walk there again
    I do not know
    I am so changed
    and perhaps them too
    many times round the orbit
    of The Circle Game

    “And the seasons, they go round and round
    And the painted ponies go up and down
    We’re captive on the carousel of time
    We can’t return, we can only look
    Behind, from where we came
    And go round and round and round, in the circle game
    And go round and round and round, in the circle game” – Joni Mitchell

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