Passing over the road


Passing over the rough road in Clare

My mothers home

She pushing a black pram

I sitting on the side

My brother Chris tucked underneath the blankets

We hit a pothole

The pram turned over

The wheel spinning

Took the tip of my finger off

Blood pumping

We went to our Aunt Bids house

I was put sitting on the table

I don’t remember pain

My mother stuck the top of my finger back with Vaseline

Put a plaster on

And all was well.

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