Our Lady of Pity

She says "your face will stick like that
if the wind changes."
Then she takes the mini-republican
by the scruff of his v-neck and tie
and buys him a mouth-organ, for not crying.

10 years later
voice broken and joking aside
I am longing for childhood in a tangible form.
A video I can watch in a fast rewind.

Take me back to Morgan's store
Our Lady of Pity, or Elgar
where Clare was born.

Pure orange ice lolly
from Mr Gerkin.
Toffees were round and pink
with a swirl of mahogany brown.
Remember chips from Stangley, and spending ?5 on a toolset in
town?

Constantly sick, my
tonils were infected buds.
If planted, grotesque beanstalks would surely have grown, to lead me
back home.

Take me back to Morgan's Store
Our Lady of Pity, or Elgar
where Clare was born.

Picnic in the park.
She brings my bike.
I am riding the Bluebird
after playschool with Val.

She looked after me always.
My mother, a personification of trust.