Photo by James Garman on Unsplash

I walked a way to heaven,
I walked away from hell
My home was poor but unhappy
My father drank in the local
I took empties back for money
The alley beside the house
was clean and narrow.
I wandered everywhere
Under the sun, I heard loud voices
In the night. We children played
Cards and festered.

And there, in the woods, our den
Like young foxes we burrowed.
And climbed like cats. Humbled 
By the coming down. Gingerly.
I had a body and I (ab)used it.
I loved my mother, feared my dad
I had the rosy cheeks of drunkenness –
My brother was unwell. Trips to the hospital 
Soaked up a lot of money and time. 
I write this after so many years!
My brother is dead, my parents too,
On my own, I get drunk, it’s true