It’s forty years since I’ve been in this house, <br />mum sold it soon after father died. <br />The owners changed it into a Chinese takeaway <br />which grew bamboo shoots outside. <br /> <br />Since then I’ve moved about like a gypsy <br />journeying from place to place. <br />Recently I returned to my old neighbourhood, <br />and yet to see a familiar face. <br /> <br />And now I’m standing in the Chinese takeaway, <br />the place where I was born and bred. <br />When I left here it was my mum and dad’s café, <br />with an alley, back yard, and shed. <br /> <br />In 1944 they bought this bomb damaged house, <br />with its old bicycle repair shop, <br />but they changed it into a ‘second hand’ business, <br />selling clothes, boots, and what not. <br /> <br />In 1949 it became an ice-cream parlour, <br />which evolved into a transport café. <br />For almost thirty years that’s how it remained, <br />until the year dad passed away.<br /><br />Orlando Belo<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/coming-home-39/
