FRANKS CASKET

The sun is out and so is childhood - remember
How the summer droned its song forever.

Three small girls tumble down the steep hill.
Grass skips, gust makes their skirts frill.

A wee boy scoots towards the big blue loch.
His fishing net bigger than his baw face.

It's hot; there's a breeze like a small caught breath.
This is it; these are the days that never stop.

Childhood ticks, tocks, ticks. Metronome.
Speaking clock. Sand glass. Time bomb.

A boy kicks a ball through a window, smashes
A gaping hole, but this is childhood still

Where big things grow small: small as a petal
Or a freckle on a face, a speckle

On an egg, or as small as a tadpole,
Small as the space where the ball missed the goal,

As dot to dot, as a crumb of Mrs Jack's cake,
Small as the silver locket around her neck.

The long grass whines in the high wind.
Away in the distance, the church bells chime.

Childhood ticks, tocks, ticks. Metronome.
Speaking clock. Sand glass. Time bomb.

Suddenly: the clatter of boots in the street.
The sob of a white van speeding away.

The cries of a small boy alone in a stairwell.
This is childhood; this is childhood as well.

The policeman caught by the Candyman.
A town's sleep murdered by the Sandman.

There goes the janitor, the teacher, the priest,
Clergyworker, childminder, careworker. Wheesht.

The auntie, the uncle, the father, the mother;
Opening and closing and opening the door.

Childhood ticks, tocks, ticks. Metronome.
Speaking clock. Sand glass. Time bomb.

Oh There she goes.
Oh There she goes.
Peerie heels and pointed toes.
Look at her feet. She thinks she's neat.
Black stockings and dirty feet.

Remember the toadstool, the promise of a chrysalis,
The taste of Lemon bon bons, the taste of liquorice.

The past keeps calling the children back.
Number six: pick up sticks. Tick tack, Tick tack.

The clock hands crawl, August's slow talk.
Autumn comes: the snap and crackle of amber leaves.

There's a brand new friend waiting in the school,
A gleam in her eye, ready for Tig or marbles or skipping.

Skip, skop to the barber's shop, Keepie-Uppie, Kerbie.
Bee Baw Babbity, Following Wee Jeannie.

Green peas and Barley. Okey Kokey. My mummy told me.
Stotty. Peever. Thread the needle. The Big Ship sails.

This is childhood, oh let it be childhood still.