Glimpses of a Childhood

Glimpses of a Childhood

My earliest recollections must have been

in the immediate aftermath of the war.

The war meant nothing to me then,

apart from seeing men and women in uniform.

When we visited the city for shopping,

I gazed at peculiar sights.

The Market Hall, a Victorian structure,

had no roof.

I recall seeing a bath tub hanging,

off the inside wall of a gutted building.

There were buildings and areas,

cordoned off with a warning not to trespass.

In the city we walked on wooden ramps ,

across deep holes in the ground beneath.

We lived in a new prefabricated house,

constructed on open land.

Coal for our fire was not delivered,

we had to collect it from a coal yard.

Petrol was rationed as was food,

not to mention coal.

I understood little of these privations,

I simply accepted them as part of life.

I was not able to associate them with war,

bombing and austerity.

The city had gaps between buildings,

often full of rubble.

Why there was not a building like the others,

was beyond my comprehension.

It was all part of the landscape I grew up in,

for me it ws normal, nothing out of the ordinary.

Now on reflection I know that the city,

had been brutally bombed.

Food was rationed along with other items.

I had lived through the aftermath of war.

I had not known the war but felt its lingering presence,

in the lives of my parents and grandparents.

I saw Gaza 77 years ago in my home city