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The Chook House

The chook house stood empty for most of my childhood. An enclosed corrugated iron shed was surrounded by a wire fence and a wooden gate held on by one rusty hinge. Inside was small and cramped, just big enough to hold a seven year old and keep out the rest of the world. Daddy long leg spiders guarded its inner twilight, webs were strung like trip wires to snare an unwary soul. Wounded I would seek refuge there, safe in its dark womb. Huddled in silence, only a thin umbilical of light connected me to the outside through a nail hole in the roof. No-one knew I was there. After seventy years I still preserve the space, keep it hidden in a corner of my mind. When the world gets too much I make myself small and go there.

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Sara Etgen-Baker

Date: 1/16/2024 4:52:00 PM

I appreciate the subtly with which you write your poems....I also like the vivid imagery...I felt as if I was in Nook House with you escaping to a place where your could heal your wounds. How delightful you had a place like that and can go there when need be. I escape to the shade of the huge pecan tree in front of my childhood home. Even know when I visit it with my mind's eye, I find solace and comfort. Outstanding work, Paul. I like your poetic style and voice.

Paul Willason
Date: 1/17/2024 4:06:00 PM

Sara, you are so kind in your ongoing support...vaue it sincerely. Strange how some childhood experieces and landmarks remain so vivid and meaningful. In my case, the old chicken shed assumes almost a sacred status. Feel quite humbled by your comments...thankyou for being a friend.

Lin Lane

Date: 1/16/2024 8:38:00 AM

Oh, Paul. You write with such emotion, but subtly enough not to venture into teary territory. I feel your connection with that chook house, and you make it perfectly clear, despite the darkness inside, so that I see every spider web, and beam of light that shines through that nail hole. We all need a haven to where we can escape, even if now it's only found inside our memories. Pity, more people don't read you. Their loss.

Paul Willason
Date: 1/17/2024 3:46:00 PM

Dear Lin, I thank you sincerely for your supportive comments. You have been a constant reader of my poetry and it is always a comforting thought to know that when I send my little children out into the world, they will be greeted by an appreciative few and that is enough. I am grateful and moved by your words.