After all, at the end of the day,

Close of play, stumps up, bails off,

A good innings, shuffling off

The silver foil, the cling film

And the tupperwares, preserving stuff

That kept the leftovers fresh

For another day.  All is done.

A life of order, now the rest

Is silence, ticking clocks.

And boxes, bags for preloved sale

Or bins, has beens, the bones

Now left, the heart is gone,

But love, words, memories still live on.

◄ Ballad of Burton Road... Under Parrs Wood original

Granny hi tech (new ending) ►


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keith jeffries

Mon 30th May 2022 21:38

I enjoyed this poem as the last line provoked memories of my mother organising tupperware parties in the 1950's or 60's. I have a vague recollection of pale green cups with a white interiors. They seemed to be plastic to me. However, thanks for this.

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