12

I've never been so cold;

But that's not true.

Fifty years ago there was no heat

Except the kitchen fire

That my mum lit

Each morning

When I went out for a wash.

My bedroom window frosted every day.

Inside the glass and out,

The lino burnt my feet

If I missed the slip mat

Made of old nylons

By Mrs Bright upstairs;

And even this was mild

Given the dash across the yard

Round past the shed

To the outside loo

Where the wind whistled in the bottom

And out the top.

Cold?

You don't know you're born!

Brian Hick 2010

©coyright Sally Hick 25.11.22