Unimportance of Being Part III

British 1920s children's tricycle being ridden...

~

In the drive way she played

Tipping a tricycle onside

Using a tire for a steering wheel

Driving hard against the tide

~

From the weekend fisticuffs

That spilled out onto cut stone

From the bloody dangling ear

Drunken near broken fist bone

~

Driving away was always easy

Coming home reverberating shock

Silence, silence, silence

Of this we must not talk

~

Fear of playing too loud

Or even playing at all

Could press a flowering child

Into papering many a wall

~

One day she, startled, rushed

To set the trike upright

Lest she be doing wrong again

Still and quiet the best fight

~

A child no more, nor silence

Will she endorse

Carrying no shame for adults

Displaying no remorse

~

Yes, there are secrets deep

She will no longer hide

She cherishes what they never did:

The wee, tiny girl inside.

~

JAM 30Mar2012