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Ten cents

Ten Cents

I grew up in the suburbs
Where the streets were lined with trees
We had backyard games of cricket
And the flowers called to bees

Where my Mum would give me ten cents
To run errands at the shops
For something she’d forgotten
Maybe mince or peas or chops

So on hot days I would have to walk
(Coz I didn’t have a bike)
And dream of what ten cents would buy
So many things that I would like

I prob’ly should have worn a hat
For my hair was flaming red
And freckles dotted on my skin
But there was nothing on my head

I’d choose a route that let me walk
The shortest way I could
Avoid the hills, marauding dogs,
And boys up to no good

I’d feel the sun upon my neck
Cicadas shrilly calling
The deafening noise the backdrop to
The groceries I’m hauling

With the sticky juice of icy pole
Running slowly down my thumb
Where my tongue jumps in to rescue
Before it continues to succumb

And the walk back home seems longer
Though you know that can’t be true
So you plod along the footpath
And your dreams begin anew

You think of what you’d like to get
The next time Mum forgets
The mince or peas or lamb chump chops
And again you get ten cents.


Penny O’Shea
29 May 2018

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