Ingrebourne four, seven, double-five, three
Attached to the wall, in the hall
of our old council house -
Number 6 Keighley Road,
Harold Hill, Romford, Essex
and nowhere near Yorkshire.
Ingrebourne four, seven, double-five, three
a code to childhood memories of
coal buckets, blankets and real cotton hankies,
shared baths on a Sunday night,
then wrapped in a towel for Hawaii Five O
with Detective Steve McGarrett, Danny, Chin Ho
and a dream of sunny beaches.
All while huddled in front of a lack lustre fire
Ingrebourne four, seven, double-five, three,
Etched onto my brain along with other numbers -
school lockers, door codes, the pin
to a bank account closed in the crash.
No longer repeated or needed. Deleted.
Except in my memory.
I like this. Great evocative imagery coupled with the mystery of the PD memory. Why do we retain stuff we don't need but forget what we're doing today?!