My memory is
a tailored suit black cuff button rolled
flipped and wedged between dusty wainscot and wooden floor.
.
It is four heavy old pennies balanced and stacked
beneath the leg of a lopsided make-do desk.
.
And then I may take the middle of a punched paper hole
scuffed and left by the soul of a Brogue.
.
In perpetuity it will bear faintest traces
of the stale scent of slim cigars
emanating from a plastic-lined basket-work bin.
.
It will not be wiped either
by its one string slither of a shedding mop.
.
There will be a sound too –
a sound insistent as a stylophone;
like the thrum of Anglia cars through thin windows.
.
And oh yes, its colours will always be orange –
orange and bottle green.
My favorite line–“by its one string of a shedding mop” Poems constructed with carefully selected words and crafted for maximum impact like yours are the ones I love to experience.
Thank you Amanda, I’m glad you swished into my cave. I hope you have fun exploring little known passages!
Julia, aching and beautiful!
Thank you fellow PenDragon x
Blimey, that’s good Julia. That is really really good. I’m a bit teary to be honest.
Soppy Old Hector me
Hanky anyone?
I had a pack of tissues with me in the local library.
The staff are terribly understanding.
BTW I’d love to reblog Big Foot. It makes me smile so much. Is that OK? May not be tomorrow, but in the next few days?
Things that make you smile sound good to me. Big Foot is always delighted to be included.
Tell him/her that he/she is on a promise.
Nice to hear from you again.
Big Foot is an It. Will be round to your place later – hectic life!
I didn’t like to make assumptions. ‘It’ it shall be.
If you do find the time to wander over, I’m in the thick of a rather elaborate blog running over four days. To make any sense of Miss B’s Travelogue, you need to read Day ! first.
You can blame Audra for this, ol’ Ms Unfttered. she suggested a head to head between two of her favourite characters on my blog, and I just went ahead and did it.
Always one for a challenge, me
Memory…sometimes challenging to see from both ends – the almost 90 and then the 2 year old and my rattling marbles in the middle.