when I was eight

when I was eight

there was a prison in our town
with
iron bars on the windows…

there was a man behind a window
and
he smiled.

He looked down from a height and he smiled. Sheer terror of the man behind the bars made me run across the cobbles, through the castle gate and along to the canal where I sat on the grass, caught my breath…how could a criminal smile! He was supposed to sit there in his cell, have only bread and water and be sorry. That’s what we were told…but smile? How could a bad man smile?

What had he done, I wondered then and could not imagine what he might have done that was so bad he had to be locked up.

there was a graveyard in our town
with
gravestones and with concrete angels…

there was a man behind a gravestone
and
he smiled.

He looked at me two graves away and smiled. Sheer terror of the man behind the gravestone made me run along the sandy paths. He wore a long grey coat. His smile slit his face, big teeth and his chin was black. My knees turned to jelly but I ran, I ran as fast as I could and a couple tending their grave with a rake and a bucket for weeds looked up as I ran and I ran through the cemetery arch where black plumed horses stopped to let a coffin out, ran along to the old moat of the town, through an alley and into the courtyard, through the back door of aunt’s summer kitchen where I was safe. He followed at first but I was too quick, I knew the way to safety and he had been seen. My chest was aching and my breathing hard, heart pounding… how could a bad man smile?

What had I done, I wondered, that he would smile and want to chase me?

there was a chaffinch in a tree
below
the prison window

there were bars in the window
and
we could hear the bird sing
and
the man
behind the window
smiled…