A lesson from history colours my day.
Light fades on time spent elsewhere
loosely tied to a pole of a pointless grey.
On the brown kitchen table worn by years,
tired by tears, the ever growing ever green
G eats his humble tea and recounts
his knowledge of a by-gone age of people
and events, a story of a language spread
at the point of a silver sword, the skill
of the victors, the cruelty of their rule.
He ends his history lesson with musings
on getting a driving licence. At nine
the green giant G has some time to wait.
His dinner tummy like his growing
imagination is full to the brim and now
he leaves me to do other exciting things,
leaving me with a lesson from history.
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Picture Credit: Malek Montag, 2015