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Soggy  Wacky  Sand  Satisfy  Late  Zipper  Scared  Chalk  Strap


I came home, soggy clothes in a bag,

Having spent time gambolling about

With wacky pre-schoolers.

Not paint or sand to satisfy their senses –

No, today there was a hill to roll down;

Eggs to chase; worms to see up close;

Late brown leaves to check the shape of!

Those garments had been well played-in

And soaked in fun and frolicks.


I flicked on the news, and sat and ate

(Once I had scrubbed dirt out of little nails)

My lunch was simple but yummy, after all the miles.


As I packed the buggy to leave again

The first reports came in.


As I pulled a zipper for my sleeping child,

I heard of people running scared.

Imagined chalk outlines in the street;

A wife in tears.


Far away, I continued to strap in my boy,

Check I had snacks, normal life.


Turned off the screen and focused on mundane…


Notebook page

It was 2.50pm and ‘all’ that was being reported was that a man had stabbed a police officer outside Westminster, and had been shot for his crime.

I was obviously worried by it, after the other attacks in Europe, but I came home around 4pm and the reporting had suddenly all got a lot more horrific.

It always makes me feel very weird to be ok when these horrendous things are happening in the world.  I watched our eldest excitedly asking me to download a game to the tablet (one that he’d been less cheeky than usual for!) and it seemed very wrong, as well as very life-affirming.  He had a great time learning how to master it – while I was informed that teenagers had been injured by some madman in a lethal piece of metal travelling at speed.

Words really fail me, the last time I checked there were five dead and 40 hurt in the attack today.  How can that be justified?  How does anyone comes to terms with that?

There will indeed be a wife crying, and a father no longer there for his children, as Keith Palmer died of his injures when he was stabbed while protecting Westminster.

My husband came home from work as usual, made me dinner, and helped me polish off the last of the chocolate cake; after helping our eldest with his homework and bathing both our children – and before going to hug our youngest to sleep.

My condolences will never be enough to the families affected by the violence in London today, but my heart is full of them, nonetheless. 

I also have so much admiration for those who helped/continue to help the injured, and those who are striving to make the streets of London safer.


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2 Responses to “Scared”

  1. Jane Wright Says:

    This is another nice poem, nicely comparing your everyday life continuing as normal against a background of horror.

  2. Montaffera Says:

    Thank you, Jane. Wish it could have just been a straightforward happy poem, but I couldn’t ignore the word ‘scared’ after today’s events X

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