Scattered Black and Whites

Been climbing trees I've skinned my knees

My hands are black the sun is going down

She scruffs my hair in the kitchen steam

She's listening to the dream I weaved today

Crosswords through the bathroom door

While someone sings the theme-tune to the news

And my sister buzzes through the room leaving perfume in the air

And that's what triggered this.

I come back here from time to time

I shelter here some days.

A high-back chair. He sits and stares

A thousand yards and whistles

Marching-band (Boom-ching)

Kneeling by and speaking up

He reaches out and I take a

Massive hand. Disjointed tales

That flit between short trousers

And a full dress uniform

And he talks of people ten years

Gone like I've known them all my life

Like scattered black 'n' whites….