Falling Backwards


Felixstowe, Suffolk

Not in this car.
Not in an 1100cc Ford Escort.
It’s not a hill we’ll ever make
our way up
to the front.
Us kids in the back –
we’ll fall back down,
slip backwards –
Whilst our parents;
our mother, and
our father at the wheel
carry on up
to the top.
I close my eyes
and pray.
God, please,
take us to the top.

Don’t let me
and don’t let my brother
fall back down




At forty-eight, I stand at the top.
And look out
to the sea.

I made it.

Big brother?

Copyright of text and photographs owned by Jay Cool, September 2018

Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian

Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

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

Facebook photo

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

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: