11-11.15am RCA

As she walks into her new life

my daughter called me to remember...

The days when

I walked on the roof of the world,

and the future was all mine.

Up 7 flights of concrete steps

From the canteen to the drawing studio.

Daily I’d spent my fifteen minutes,

Hands black with ink,

Watching the big city skyscape

From the stairwell on the top floor.

A careless vending machine ritual

to carry me until the caretaker

called shop and thrust me back

to the streets.