cast away

the marriage fell upon the stones
of hard luck

and precedent was hammered
thin by hamners of appeal
till cash wraught hands
signed away child and home
to the ward

gone are the cupboard and bureau
the crockery pantry and
dug in on the hill

no more rain on slate hued
roof
no more warm burning bitter
of the peat log
or acrid coal with its sweet
aroma

the black sedan with its finish
took only essentials in the
boot
and leaked petrol down the
lane

away away the child games
I grew afraid to grow old
I grew afraid to grow back
young

and never trusted anyone
again