Poems

I was mostly caterwauling
While Hitler was alive
And not yet crawling

But self-propelling when
My father came home from the wars
Crawling in the back garden

Making good progress
Advancing on all fours
Towards the man in battledress.

If he had known me from the start he
Might have picked me up - an awkwardness
I blame on Hitler partly.

In a mild way I have rejoiced
In wild places.
...