| Joanne |
Trekking up Stow Hill Fragments of the hurricane falling on my face Getting heavier and heavier I just keep walking and walking. Through it all. Just letting my feet move one in front of the other. |
| Phone rings Jo sends it to voicemail |
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| Joanne |
And I'm passing shops and buildings that have been there as long as I can remember. Standing tall and proud. Just with people and tents in the doorways. Taking shelter. I walk for what seems like miles and miles. Half hour easy Until I rock up to the street thinking that it'll still be boarded up. Like loads of the houses there I sneak around the back through the garage door which is still half broken and barely hanging onto its hinges. I move up the garden path but there's lights on and noise coming from the house. I duck down in the hedge and crawl towards the back of the house. Slowly slide up the back wall of the house and peer in the window And I see this woman playing with two little babies in the living room Laughter filling the halls But it's not my laughter. The laughter that used to fill those halls. It's not my family. And a guy in the kitchen pops his head through the living room door and says something to the woman who I'm presuming is his wife or girlfriend. |
| Phone rings Jo sends it to voicemail |
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| Joanne |
She picks up the babies and takes them through to the kitchen. I slurk around the side of the house like an MI6 stealth agent. Peer in through the side window of the kitchen to see them all sitting around the table. Dad taking the food out of the oven just like /(nan did) |
| Pause |
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| Joanne |
/And they're all getting ready for tea. I feel my stomach start to tighten. The butterflies are back. I gasp for air. Big thick breaths As I slump against the wall like a drowned rat. And in the corner Just underneath the window sill A brick reads Joanne Woz Ere 2K5 With BFF Nan These bricks. My bricks. Are now someone else's. This home My home Now belongs to someone else. And that hurts. Even more than the damn butterflies. |