by Melpomene   Jul 5, 2016

Our home is decadent in

peeling plaster
and aerosol.

Wood bows beneath the white ants and
reminds us why we will never leave here.

In summer we fan ourselves, tumble ice
cubes between our teeth and

count the days until Christmas.

In winter we toast our hot water bottles and
pray to God in stain glass windows.

I admit I don't write about you enough,

haven't thanked you enough for the full belly,
or puff the magic dragon and colic-filled-nights.

I apologise for trying to scrub
the roots of my birth
from my skin,

they were radiating warmth
I never realised I was leaving.

You weren't the one I was leaving.


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Latest Comments

  • 3 years ago

    by Cam M

    My father used to sing me puff the magic Dragon. Thanks for the poem.

  • 5 years ago

    by D.

    Hi Mel. :) this is gorgeous, especially the effectiveness of the ‘I apologise...’ stanza. Missed your writing

  • 6 years ago

    by mossgirl19

    It's an awesome piece. It's so bold and honest and touching...

  • 6 years ago

    by Naughtymouse

    i'm re-reading this ... it is freakin awesome!

  • 6 years ago

    by nourayasmine

    Always in love with your poetry.

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