AMMUNITION COLLECTOR.A Poem by Terry CollettA BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDONPicking out the right sized stone was just the start and Lydia helped picking up this one then that from the bomb site and showing it to him in her small palm he took it and placed it in the catapult sack and pulled back and aimed at some tin can he'd set up some distance away and it go and the tin can went flying with a zing and she laughed and said you got it straight on and clapped her hands together then looked around for another while he went and set the tin can up again on the stone wall of what had once been the side of a house now blown wide apart he watched her searching all intent as if she were seeking gold or coins that had dropped she liked being his ammunition collector better than being at home with her snoring older sister and her mother in hell frozen over mood and her father sleeping off the night before booze better here with Benedict being his ammunition supplier his right hand girl besides he often bought her a drink of pop or sweets from the Penny shop his 9 year old features seeming older and her 8 year old face seeming younger thin pale her hands frail looking fingers skin and bones here she said here is this OK? and she ran to him and showed him and he said yes just right and he put it in the sack of the catapult and aimed then said hey you want to try? but she shook her head no I might hit something I ought not to and besides I like watching you and so he aimed again and let it go and it zoomed through the air and caught the tin and it flew spinning with a yelping sound and hit the ground and she thought of her big sister throwing up in the early hours after the binge and night out and her mother bellowing out in the early hours you bloody w***e and her father saying O quit the mouth let the kid learn her own way and she Lydia turning over away from her sister's butt and back the sound of vomiting in her ears and he tucking the catapult in the back pocket of jeans thought of his younger sister getting herself run over by a car cuts and bruises a small scar otherwise OK the other day and right he said looking at Lydia come let's go get us a penny drink of pop from the Penny shop and she smiled and walked beside him his John Wayne swagger cowboy hat on his head ready to shoot any bad cowboys who came along bang bang dead. © 2013 Terry Collett |
StatsAuthorTerry CollettUnited KingdomAboutTerry Collett has been writing since 1971 and published on and off since 1972. He has written poems, plays, and short stories. He is married with eight children and eight grandchildren. on January 27t.. more..Writing
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