Lucerne Street Notebook

I’ve been remembering the village I grew up in on the North Downs of Kent, walking up the road, re-visiting each house that I pass. I’ve used the old spelling of the village, which changed while I was in my teens to Lewson …


weedy triangle at the t-junction               
by Baker’s washerwoman home

then the house that Jack built of
post-war red brick with apple trees

next-door post-office butter pins
seeds flour gossip candy stamps

past teacher’s semi-detached
to Reg’s Saturday well-dug potato patch

opposite my two Neaves girl friends
their dying mother nursed by Nye

roses along the fence I ran into
learning to ride Mother’s bike

driveway    periwinkle    green gate                
hedge   before turn to World’s End

and back to cherry orchard fruit
picked among wet grass and   mushrooms

down past rain-shadowed sheep
to old country Plough the pub


9781771333054_FCA Bedroom of Searchlights’: poetry. This collection draws a picture of the poet’s divorced mother, an artist with two children, who struggled with poverty, war, and the realities of daily life, yet still found beauty and comfort in her garden, and her art. From Inanna Publications, 2016.

About Joanna M. Weston

Born in England, she lives in British Columbia. She is married with three sons, Joanna has an MA from the University of British Columbia. She has published in numerous anthologies and in magazines in Canada, the US, UK, and New Zealand, such as Canadian Women's Studies, Convolvus, Endless Mountains Review, Grain, Green's Magazine, Prairie Fire, Spin, Wascana Review, CBC Gallery, and many more...
This entry was posted in adventure, memory, people, poem and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Lucerne Street Notebook

  1. acox321 says:

    All the names come back. Lucerne. World’s End. Antony

    Sent from my iPhone


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s