Collecting the Turkey
“What was the surname, Sir?”
“Collins.” “Of Curbridge Road?”
I pause, and smile. My old house,
‘home home’, and for a moment
I’m tempted to purloin the meat order
that my Mum has put in for Boxing Day.
I always was Collins of Curbridge Road, after all.
But “No. Moorland Road.” My Granny’s old house,
now ours. I appreciate the symmetry,
how this trip to collect the turkey
is a trip down memory lane
through what you might call the family homes.
This half-mile-apart hall of fame.
It reminds me: Like frozen footsteps in snow we once trudged
We will always exist in the places we’ve been,
the air ringing with the echoes of our dreams,
and in the hearts of those who love us, who we’ve loved.
This is obviously based on a true story, which happened when I went to collect the turkey from Baker’s Butchers in Witney earlier today. It would be a nice poem to finish the Advent Calendar on, but judging from my countdown over the last three weeks, three days, I think I probably owe you one for tomorrow too. Plus, my actual Advent Calendar this year has 25 days and I tend to use that as a guide for how many poems I write.
As well as that, I’m not really in the frame of mind to sum up the Advent yet – today’s been a bit too busy and I’m only just entering into the headspace of poetry. It’s been nice, don’t get me wrong – getting the house tidy for hosting Christmas tomorrow, delivering the final, final few cards, wrapping presents, picking up dog turds, all that sort of stuff. Soon Luci and I will settle down to baked camembert and the Muppets. Then it’s Christmas Eve.
I’m feeling Christmassy though. I’ve just been up ‘home home’ to see my Mum and my brother and drop off presents for Boxing Day. I’ve got a can of some IPA or other on the go and the promise of snowballs downstairs. I’ve (finally) conquered the sellotape. All is well.
I’ll stop, as I’ve got one more day and this is starting to sound like summing up after all. Before I finish for today though, thanks to everyone who tuned in for the #PoetryAdventCalendarChristmasEveEveLiveSpectacular last night – truly appreciated. If you missed it, you can watch it back here. I recommend having a drink while you do.
Also, it’s true, the ending of today’s Door. I don’t know if I believe in ghosts, certainly not the Christmas Carol variety. But I believe our energy leaves an impression on the places where we’ve been; I believe we each impact each other in palpable, intangible, permanent ways; and I believe once you’ve loved someone, or been loved by someone, there will forever be some corner of their heart that is forever under a flag, flying with your name on it. And that’s a comforting thought to hold onto, as Christmas Eve gives way to Christmas Day.
My Mum asked for something “jolly” tonight. I’m not sure that I’ve lived up to that brief, but hey-ho. There’s always tomorrow.
Not long now. One day to go…
Owen x
The Poetry Advent Calendar 