As we go

Contact the poet: mwambani@hotmail.com


Monday, 24 January 2011

Under the Stairs

There was a cupboard
under the stairs
in our house.

The door had a
handle but no
lock and was
just my height
with a sloping top.

In it were kept
all the things
my mother wanted
out of site,
like the Hoover
and an ancient
polishing machine
and a set
of carpet bowls.

There was light
switch if you could
find it behind
all the coats,
and it made a good
hiding place,
although I was
wary of groping
too far towards
the sharp end.

And occasionally
she would empty
everything into the
hall to see what
was there,
before putting it
all back in exactly
the same place.

I guess everybody
has a cupboard
under the stairs.


John H Davies
24th January 2011 


No comments:

Post a Comment