Er, talking about Grandmothers: I apologise in advance for this.I think it's
just something I have to get out of my system...


Gran and the bedbugs

Gran told me that she stayed
with his parents in Wales
for her honeymoon. Bedbugs
marched across the ceiling
in battalions and he stood
on the bed and reached up
to crush them with his bare hands.
She can still remember the smell,
sharp and sweet like death
dissolved in raspberry juice.

Next day, Granda went to Sirhowy
to help his brother build a wall
and the carter came by.
Gran rode with him to town.
On the way she took the reins
and drove the trap and he laughed
at a city girl going so fast.
It was good with the mountain wind
in her face, Gran said,
and green fields slipping by.

There were more sheep than people
and all wandering about.
Gran hoped they wouldn't get run
over. Sometimes she spoke
to them and they looked at her
quite mild and friendy-like.
From the hills she could look
down into the valley and see
the dark mist of the mine.
There were sounds like thunder
but she didn't know if they came
from the sky or the earth.

After the honeymoon
they came back to London
and Gran was glad to leave
the bedbugs, though she missed
the mountains. She often
went to Regent's park to feed
the ducks or to Greenwich
where the squirrels would sit on
your shoulder or pickpocket
the nuts from your coat.

A few months later she heard
Granda's brother had been killed
when the tunnel caved in.
It took a day to dig his body out.
Gran shivered and bagged
all the sheets for the bath-house
to give them a good wash.

She borrowed a bag of laundry blue
from Lil, who had a new baby
with a purple stain on his cheek.
Lil said it was because he was conceived
when she was on. Gran didn't like
to talk about things like that.
She just said she was sure
the mark would fade in time.

                          grasshopper