Angela M. Smith: June 2020
Between 1947 and 1954, I lived on a temporary council housing estate, which had been an RAF Station in the Second World War. I lived in part of a building, which had been the sergeant's mess. My child's eye view must have contrasted with the perceptions of the adults.
They saw puddles and Nissen huts.
I saw my family and my home.
They saw nettles and brambles.
I saw sparkling dew drops on spider' webs.
They saw barbed wire and broken glass.
I saw a potential tennis court.
They saw the floor of a dismantled hut.
I saw a roller skating rink.
They saw a smelly old marl pit.
I saw an enchanted lake.
They saw litter and graffiti.
I saw the shop and dear Mrs Clarke.
They saw damp and ice.
I saw Jack Frost's handiwork on the window pane.
They saw runny noses and patched clothes.
I saw fun and games with friends.
They saw danger.
I saw freedom.
Angela M. Smith
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