Familiar scents from childhoods spent
in the back seat of my parents' Citroën.
The bakery's sweet rise of odour to the skies
to be served up to the birds in the cloud kitchen.
Familiar sounds from childhoods found
in the trees behind Pleckgate field.
The mower's chug soundtracks the den we've dug
as we keep its careless treasures concealed.
Familiar sights from childhood nights,
as my legs are jelly and my eyes are melted ice-cream
from a swift BMX pedal and an hour on Medal
before I write up a list for next Haloween's scheme.
These familiar thoughts from my childhood taught
me that through time most things in life will stay.
As we begin to grow old, these memories we hold
will take plenty of wear before they fray.