Thinking Back

The smell of musty damp clothing held together by the touch of cheap thread. And rough dogs bred for rabbiting kept pots filled with law-abiding stew When rickets craved a bone to bend and polio bought another set of braces. To those halcyon times of blinding fog, lined with lung-enthusing crystalline particles And when imbibing tap water came with the added thrill of swimming microbes, sharing their raging fevers that made housing booms an unrequired dream When to walk the alley ways of dog defecation, showed off the slums at their best, with gin drinking mothers taking a daily bashing from even drunker husbands And children born as part of a fecundity regime, a numbers game of survival of the fittest, only recognised as an individual when past the age of most risk When losing brothers and sister's along the way, was barely remembered and hardly ever affordably mourned. Like a whisper barely heard or purposefully ignored Yes, those were the days. Remembered with sepia fondness and still framed photos. Of few bleeding hearts and even fewer charitable acts. Thinking Back is all