Coburg


my mother was raised
in the promise of peace
a second world peace
in a street burgeoning
with song over jump rope
and pop gun pop pop
tip your dolly downwards
and it cries
mama mama
the father's up the corner
and you best be down in bed
before the pipe smoke
in the porch light
and the scraping of legs
on the lino
the chairs built to last
three in five
my mother was raised
boiled eggs and milk
at the duck-n-cover table
soldiers cut from crust for the yolk
tossing Merri pebbles
at the wardens on the wall
get to school you brat
I'll tell your mother!


This poem appears in


Pass it Along

© Brendan Bonsack
February 2017