Sarah, the Neighbour’s Child
She would lean forward and turn to gaze
at me from her pushchair as her
Mum, my neighbour,
would waltz her around the corner.
Always she would stare, with big blue eyes,
the same shade as mine, till the last second
stoic and expressionless
but intensely focused.
She grew and walked and ran and still
craned her neck at me, before corners
but stayed silent when greeted,
a child who was seen but not heard.
One day, when Sarah was 6, her Mum
asked me to watch her child when there
was a family emergency. Things were fine,
she remained silent. Then, when watching Dr Who
in a clear charming voice, she asked ‘Why are you
so ugly? to which, without thinking I replied
‘I am you from the future’. She did not stop
crying for twenty minutes.
A published poet thrilled to be featured regularly on BBC Radio Bristol and spoken word events. Lisa likes to convey poems to portray, this life.