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The Poetry of Joe Cairney...
RETURNING
It felt very much different as I walked to the door
not the way that it felt all those years before.
Something was missing, gone, no longer there
as I made my way towards that dull concrete stair.
No toys on the pathway, the step or the lawn.
The taunts from my brothers had long ago gone.
I reached for the knocker but pulled my hand back,
half expecting a pea shooter or spit ball attack.
Behind this green door was the home that I knew
My mum, my dad and my brothers, there's two.
The good times, the sad times, the fun and the tears
A father's strong hand to comfort my fears.
My mother cooking dinner for five every night
John and James in the bedroom are having a fight.
Dad's reading the newspaper in his comfy armchair
The dog's out the house and roaming somewhere
No I can't knock the door, I won't venture in
I'll keep my fond memories alive and within.
Twenty years have passed since I walked through that door
There's no one inside that I know anymore.
Joe Cairney
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