The Village Shop

The road is long
The woods are old
The car is new
The wind is cold.

First stop back
The village shop
Potato sacks
Newspaper rack
Cash register
Clickety clack
Spiked receipts
In a stack
Mrs Sharp
Out the back.

Where has it gone?

The tennis balls,
The balls of string
The pinball machine
The magazines
The sherbert bombs
That took so long
The liquorice strings
The sticky bun things?

A screen door bangs
An old flame flickers
Mum’s gone
To a home
They closed us down
There’s one in town.

Coming home
Is never neutral
Never the first time
Never the last,
Coming home
Is long and old
Lost and found
Bought and sold.

© JB Gardener
2009