Posted and Packing

By Ewan
- 199 reads
One more move to overseas,
amid the packing of crates
and scrubbing of skirting boards,
a hoard of ancient football programmes,
towering at the bottom of a wardrobe,
tumbled and fell.
International matches, Old Firm derbies.
Players from the late fifties,
featured on the covers,
most with a military haircut,
National Servicemen all.
My dad pointed at faces,
whose names were unfamiliar:
‘played alongside him,
against him, that one wouldn’t play:
frightened he’d get injured.
Got invalided out, imagine that!
Dropped his .303. on his foot.’
‘Were you any good, Dad?’
‘Not too bad, Son, not too bad.’
The box behind the programmes
was full of trophies and medals,
won in - and for - the Air Force .
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Comments
So many memories stirred by
So many memories stirred by something, and so many 'why didn't I ask him/her about that … what was that he told me about …' Rhiannon
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Those final lines pack such a
Those final lines pack such a punch. His and your memories blending together, and you carry them for both of you.
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