Frank McGillivray – On Hurlford Road – part 6 – Not Being Catholic, Certain Metaphors Do Not Apply

Frets Words is pleased to showcase the poetry of Frank McGillivray, we will publish the series of poems collectively titled ON HURLFORD ROAD. Frank is a local Avondale poet and we’re delighted to be able to promote talent on Frets Words.



One Saturday afternoon
The boy with my grandfather’s medals
And I, climbed the wall
Into McConnechy’s Garage.

The sheds were locked,
Cars waiting to be repaired.
In an almost empty ice cream van

We found;
A box of wafers, an eagle shaped
ring, a pair of clackers and 3 whistles.

We ate some of the wafers;
We tipped the balance on the floor
And trampled them in.

I put on the ring,
Richard took two whistles,
We agreed to sell the clackers
And took them to a shop;

Asked for our money back.
They chased us up the street.
On the way home we blew the whistles,
Richard’s two, my one.

In the dark late afternoon
We’d hide behind his hedge
And throw stones at the buses.

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