It inspired to re-visit a poem I wrote many years ago.
It came upon me in the aftermath of a burglary when my children were very small.
I spoke to my daughter today. She is in Australia and sometimes in the leaving there is sadness. Not for the distance that lies between us, she will always be as close as my heart, but for times long gone. I was so much older then, much younger then than now.
Open Secret 1985
The small brown box is broken
Cherished contents lie in naked relief their intimacy exposed and abused.
Words of love and tenderness dissolve disintegrate in a welter of sodden confusion
A china ornament, its headless shell, still enveloped in tissue paper
bravely displays its half buried crayon message
A present to Santa. We love you xxx
Birthday cards, gifts and treats
Pictures and postcards
Now scattered ashes and dead memories
A single lock of golden hair lies
Doused in evil stinking urine
All orphaned secrets now
No video player here, no money nor jewellery in this box
No plastic card or open cheque book
And no secrets now.