She Says

by Paul Brookes

Her fingers make an unbroken run
over the walls of our home:

“You live in a strange world.
No bullet holes for my fingers to play with.
No blast holes to climb through when playing hide and seek.”

I reflect,
“You get used to it.
My Grandad played on bomb sites in the fifties.
Much was demolished”

Her, fingers still in motion,
“I love ruins.
Everything should be ruins.”