Simon Curtis
Sloes
Three years ago, I took you in the car
To help with picking sloes to make sloe gin,
By Kingthorn Mill down on the Bradden lane.
It meant a change for you, was not that far,
And you could walk still, then, and so join in.
Three autumns on, in late September cool,
A hundred miles from Bradden and the mill,
I gather sloes once more, in Manchester,
A rec. with traffic noise near Parrs Wood School;
The site has changed, but not the ritual.
Sleeves wringing wet from blackthorn drenched with rain,
I carry back perhaps two pounds of sloes -
Small change of news, as well, to share with you:
‘Been busy, Mum! It’s sloe gin time again’,
Though in the Home you’re yonderly, God knows,
In such a state how can you care that much,
For all I’ll talk as if we’re quite in touch?
Page(s) 21
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