Our Place

by Rowena M Love

We had our own place,
my sister and I,
where we felt safe
from the prying eye.

A dry trough she sought,
a washed up bath,
where she immersed herself
in books.

For me, the hedge.
In its hollow depths
I adventured the length of the garden,
and beyond...

Bare branches were obstacles
to be clambered on the way
to Scheherazade spinnings
of every childhood cliché.

On conjured craft, I sailed free:
the voyage of discovery’s only limit,
my childish imagination
and a mother’s shout of “Tea!”

As princess or pirate,
within that privet
I reigned supreme.
Unchallenged?

As we grew, so our place has shrunk,
to be inside us now.
To be recalled at will,
or need.

A mental security blanket,
unseen,
but ever-present,
we cuddle it close.

We all have a place,
sanctuary
from life.
Where do you go?

Published in Issue XII (March 1998) of Helicon Poetry Magazine