Memories from a lost youth

(A childhood memory)

Shoe leather for break pads
we scuffed to a stop.
“There” cried Derek “its there”
tumbling down hill, scratching
and ripping through
bramble thicket we gave
chase;
Into the newly ploughed field
splurging treacle-like through
mud that tried to suck off your
feet.
We stopped and looked at each
other as a gust of wind lifted
the bright red balloon, with its
unread message waving to us,
as the wind carried it on to
where?
Derek screamed words you can’t
say to an adult when you’re only
ten.
defeated we went back to our bikes.

T Morgan