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 Stretton © 2018
First published on this blog in 2014, this is a revised version – last week’s heat put me in mind of it.
journalread 
02/07/2015 at 12:06
Nice one! I remember this one.
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02/07/2015 at 12:16
Ah! That’s encouraging 🙂
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02/07/2015 at 15:55
Wonderful, Polly. Of course, now I’m wondering about the health effects grandpa and grandma suffered from chronic creosote exposure. 😉
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02/07/2015 at 16:20
The thing that always occurs to me, is that grandpa and grandma were soooooo old, so very, very old… and seemed to go on forever…at least, mine did to me, even though my grandpa went at only 70ish, grandma survived well into her 80’s in fact she outlived my mother. Maybe it’s always like that for small children – but what memories, ‘eh? 😀
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02/07/2015 at 16:23
I didn’t realize this was based on your actual grandparents. My bad. I hope my comment didn’t sound flippant.
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02/07/2015 at 16:40
Oh, no, Carrie, it isn’t – they’re pure invention. However, there may be one or two things drawn from my memories of my own grandparents that influenced the poem, I don’t think you can completely divorce experience from invention even in poetry…hmmm…you’ve made me think (again!) 🙂
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02/07/2015 at 16:44
Oh good. Phew. 🙂
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02/07/2015 at 16:46
heh-heh…;) x
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02/07/2015 at 16:50
Very heartwarming words. You painted a lovely picture.
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02/07/2015 at 17:11
Thanks Kimberly, glad you think so 🙂
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03/07/2015 at 11:38
What lovely memories
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03/07/2015 at 11:39
Largely invented, I confess, but I enjoyed basing the characters on those I knew 🙂
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04/07/2015 at 11:36
Oh this is superb Polly! I absolutely love it. I keep coming back and re-reading. You are so good at creating vivid images of life. I could smell this one and you seem to have written a long story in very few lines which I guess is the skill of a good poet! X
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04/07/2015 at 13:50
I don’t think I’ll ever forget the smell of creosote, there’s nothing quite like it any more. Glad you enjoyed it Christine 🙂 x
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04/07/2015 at 15:30
Love the feel of this on the lips,….grandpa, pipe in mouth…
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04/07/2015 at 18:12
…can almost taste the tobacco on the pipe lip… 😉
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08/07/2015 at 12:13
Memories, a gift that goes on giving… the good ones that is. Charming Polly, real or not!
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08/07/2015 at 13:17
Thanks Léa – I like that you found it ‘charming’ 🙂
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30/04/2018 at 18:29
What a smashing picture painted on my mind. Thank you.
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30/04/2018 at 20:34
Thanks Elaine, glad to paint pictures 🙂
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