20th April 2022

Circles of the forgotten,
ever decreasing,
ever tightening,
press memories of old to the fore.

Raising tears half a century on,
of illness not understood,
of asylum children, and a father,
of straightjackets…

Of another world, another place, another time;
of things we do not mention,
in my family.

Prompt: do not mention

Amalfi Coast, Italy.

Take me Along Poetry (mine) In my Cupboard is a Box copyright information Copyright Sunda 2022