Bapaume Road

You look across and notice
it’s not the window I’m looking through
“You’re missing all the view”
you say
I’m flicking past memories of you
and her
and us
how we used to drive home from nanna and grandad’s
and fly down that steep hill
with the roundabout at the end
and we'd scream out “again!”
but you never did turn around and go back up
The safest place I knew
was the middle seat in the back of the car
It felt as though we might go far, far
away
and never stop
and nothing bad could happen
and I wouldn't have to go back to being frightened
if we just kept moving forward
Maybe that’s why you never did turn around
at the bottom of that hill
You knew I'd have to wait until
I was older to understand