The Whistle
Rural Ireland 1964.
First day of school.
Little brown school case.
School overlooking beautiful bay.
Miss Mc Cloon, elderly teacher.
Good friend of my Dad.
Looks up on hearing loud whistle.
"You must go now."
Halfway down school lane,
Daddy waits for Jeaniemac.
Has a taxi run to do.
Would not dream of leaving
without me.
I still have a vision of seeing him waving when I stood up to leave.
I was his little pet, and he took me everywhere with him.
Perhaps it was he who cried, not me, on that first day... away.
Copyright © Jean Murray | Year Posted 2015
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