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WALKING WITH MY SHADOW (Episode 76)

 

WALKING WITH MY SHADOW 

 

Podbean Link for those who like to listen

This morning the cat from across the road sings me three hellos while the air brings us gentle elements of spring.

Alt Text says this week’s photo is a shadow of a person on a road. I say this is me out on the country lane walking with my shadow. I liked the length of my shadow on this particular day and wanted to capture the spring sunshine. Whilst walking I had been pondering the way people sometimes look as though they are taking their shadow for a walk and sometimes look as though they are walking with their shadow. I was also thinking how I picture the metaphorical road I walk differently on different days. Can you begin to imagine the number of tangents this took my thoughts off into?

I don’t always remember to take many photos and was incredibly grateful to the person I sat next to at the recent Mary Chapin Carpenter concert for sending me some photos they had taken. I don’t think I will forget the experience of being at the concert, but it is very special to have some visual reminders of the event.

I didn’t dress as Noddy or Thing 3 for World Book Day this year, but I did see the Gruffalo in the forest whilst out walking with a friend. The walk also had essence of searching for a Heffalump in the Hundred Acre Wood when we suddenly realised that we were in fact striding out to walk round the same route again. I don’t have a very good sense of direction, but can read a Pokémon Go map and am reasonably adept at following posts with arrows on them. I also find large landmarks incredibly helpful, and luckily there was a lake on the walk which helped us orientate ourselves. Walking and talking in the fresh air saw a couple of hours fly past which reminded me of a long chat I recently had over a cup of coffee. It seemed that all of a sudden the chairs were being put up ready for floor mopping, and we had sat down at lunch time! I love these kinds of conversations where time comes as a surprise, and I love the fact that there are now days in my week where these things can glide into being.

It was an absolute delight to find out that two of my poems had been shared at a World Book Day event. I felt a wonderful glow of pride when I was told. I always wondered whether something like this would happen and now I know it actually has. I tip my metaphorical hat to the sharers of words and to the fact that His Gun was performed from memory. I don’t have the skill to do that with my work, and can only recite very, very short poems that rhyme!

 

I will share His Gun with you because it comes from a time when I did dress up for World Book Day, and I am grateful for all the experiences this gave me during my time working in a variety of different schools. It is also one of the poems from my ‘tape the poems to Kath so I can see the words while she records me’ phase of YouTube which makes me smile.

 

HIS GUN

for the schoolboy who entered my office without really announcing himself

 

He shoots.

She is falling,

staggering,

clutching herself.

Her hip seems to disappear.

She stumbles, hits the floor, stills.

 

He watches,

so silent he stops the air from moving,

her closed eyes flicker to find him.

He searches his words,

they both stare at it hanging from his limp hand.

 

He meets her gaze, speaks –

It’s just a banana, he tells her.


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