Walking through my old hometown – alone – an emotion image emerges:

20130801-162631.jpg[My emotion captured visually]

With the comfort of old friends, this town
is a white canvas of purity: light, fresh, joyous.

But, as I walk…alone, this town
haunts my emotions:
grey veined ink stains emerge,
not dropped/splashed from above,
instead they seep insipidly,
as if soaking up from below…
then they darken, darken, black,
drawn from the centre out –
spreading, infecting…

I stroll the park, ice cream in hand to
shake the shivery tainted feeling.
I linger opposite a door, once associated
with fear, feel…nothing…

I walk on, having washed
my canvas white again.

(Additional info: the town is Bideford, which was referred to as the “Little White Town” by Charles Kingsley in his novel “Westward Ho!”)

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4 thoughts on “Walking through my old hometown – alone – an emotion image emerges:

  1. I found your poem most evocative, Rowan. Although I was born in Worcester, I was raised in Malvern. Recently, I’ve been to Malvern and can identify with the emotions you describe. Nice one.

    • It is a strange experience to feel the places I got hurt come through the excitement of nostalgia and being with caring old friends again. I’m glad you could relate!

  2. I visit my home town every three years or so and have felt as you describe. I could attempt to put those feelings into verse but it would never have occurred to me to draw on nineteenth century literature and third millennium graphics in the process. You’re more than a poet Heather, you’re an inventor, a creative convener of concepts, an alphabetic alchemist, a gypsy interviewing tealeaves, a lateral thinking hard-hat engineer building cranial channels of poetic dissemination. I am much impressed with this lovely piece.

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