Polly

Writings and Witterings

No Creosote

12 Comments

In the potting shed
the scent of ancient creosote
wafts in heavy summer heat.
Years of grandpa, pipe in mouth,
leaning against the wall as
grandma wielded the black
brush and yelled,

‘Get back you
kids,’

followed by her gap-tooth grin.
She lives in the still-
standing walls…
no creosote
now.

Polly Robinson © 2014

Potting shed

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12 thoughts on “No Creosote

  1. I love the smell of creosote!
    Gap tooth grin and grandpa, pipe in mouth – sound warm memories :)

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  2. Ah! As rich as creosote! (For any Pratchett fans out there!)

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  3. Nice memory Polly, comes over very strongly.

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  4. I loved the memories that you shared with us in this poem, Polly. I always enjoy your poems :-)

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  5. this is a great example of the power of words. I am There in the shed. I am one of the kids when I read this. very effective.

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    • Thanks Jane – it seems impossible to believe that our children may not identify the fragrance of creosote, but this is the case – good to know it’s meaningful to those with memories… lovely comments, thank you.

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  6. Super charming. Agree with Jane. It really gives a strong sense of the moment and the images and sense of place, smell, time, character are all very vivid. k.

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    • Aw… that’s good – makes me wonder what those who’ve never smelled creosote would make of it… thanks for these comments k :)

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