Benny and Ellen One Friday 1955.

Ellen waits for me

by the iron bridge

where now and then, trains

rush above her head.

She’s there before me

on this cold school day

wrapped in her warm coat

with the rain hood up

and mittens on hands.

I’m a little late

having been to shops

for my mother first,

and dragging breakfast,

thinking of the film

my old man said we’d

go see the next day.

I don’t tell her that,

make up some excuse

once we walk to school.

The sky is dull grey

as we make our way

behind the flicks house

walking past bomb sites.

Dad said in summer,

she said explained to me,

he’d take us all out

to the seaside town.

She explained it more

as we made our way

down the subway to

the road tour school.

It looks like it will rain

so we’ll have to stay

in the school again

during recess time

rather than outside

in the small playground

making our loud sound.