Saturday, 21 June 2014

HOME IS...


A POEM BY TOM MURRAY

HOME IS…

running wild with a football
wind whispering ‘shoot shoot.’
Rain ragged against my ten year old face
I pause.
Gather in the high chimney a finger pointing
To the cloud folded sky.
This is my youthful marker.
Amongst the self same rough skinned houses
this gives direction home.

After I flick the ball high
with new bought boots 
score
Roy of the Rovers style.

Home is…

another place.
Time carved hills.
A phone call father to father.
‘It’s a boy.’ I say.
Memories surface.
Footprints in ancient earth revealed.

Home is…

Memory birthed
moment by moment. 



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