The beautiful long days of childhood

especially that Saturday morning

when snow covered everything equally

with layers of innocence and happiness.

Snow reached the top of my gumboots

and the wind rested among the clouds.

Roads were clear of Traco* buses that would

have saved me trudging through the snow.

String from my duffel bag cut into my shoulder

as I walked up the blankness of Gun Hill,

past the spider blocks of army barracks,

the Observatory that looked like a urinal,

the bridge over the Basingstoke Canal

to arrive at the Command Swimming Baths

that were awake and speaking to me,

holding out red brick arms to welcome this

schoolboy in gumboots, overcoat and scarf

who spent two hours trudging through the snow

so he could join the other fauns and satyrs

in the drunken orgy that was my childhood.

* Aldershot and District Traction Co Ltd