I stand on the balcony
of the flats where I live
early morning
dry sky
the milkman
and his horse
drawn wagon
appears on my left
he is pulling the reins
and the horse trots onward
head in a nosebag eating
kids are playing
on the pram sheds or
in the Square
Enid comes along
my balcony towards me
she has no visible
bruising or bruises
no black eyes
or split lips
you're up early
I say
fall out of bed?
She shakes her head
no I had a lie in
and Mum got my breakfast
and Dad sat
and talked to me
about last night
and the meal we had
and the cinema afterwards
she says
still hasn't hit you
yet then or your mum?
I say
she shakes her head
and looks over the balcony
the milkman is right
below us now
and the horse
lowers its head
eating from the bag
has he gone all religious
your old man?
I say
she looks at me
don't know
he doesn't talk
about God or religion
or nothing
she says
but I am still fearful
that he will one day
hit me and Mum again
and leather me
she looks out
at the sky
it's in his eyes
that's where I look
she says
they tell me his moods
but at the moment
I can't see
like I did
is your dad religious?
She asks me
don't think so
I say
he never talks about God
he does sometimes say
o Christ
but that's usually
if he has no money
or something like that
she looks at me
and kisses my
9 year old cheek
with her 9 year old lips
hope my dad
is religious
she says
I don't want him
to become like
he was again
I feel her damp kiss
on my cheek
like an invisible stain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem