It Comes to Us All a poem by Derrick Porter I was steadying myself as one does stepping from a bus close to where Darnel’s, the old shoe warehouse, stood opposite the Labour Exchange in the Kingsland Road. “Is she yours?” the woman behind me asked, pointing down to where a small dog was looking up at me, wagging its tail. When it cocked its ears I found myself saying “Of course …” And scooped the dog up as I stepped off the bus. “She thought you’d forgotten her,” the woman said. “Never, I had her mother fifteen years and Crackerjack almost twelve.” The woman smiled as the dog licked my face. Then, from the deck above, a man appeared shouting: “You’ve got my dog! …I was upstairs and Dinky must have followed you down.” “But he just said he’s had her twelve years…” the woman said. “That’s impossible,” the man gasped, “she’s only a pup!” “Then please accept my apologies,” I said, “Crackerjack must still be on the bus.”
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& Derrick Porter, among the founder members of Forest Poets, grew up in Hoxton, in a non-literary environment. Why, from the age of thirteen, he began to write poetry is one of life’s unsolved mysteries. His poems have been widely published. His first collection, Voices of Hoxton, is just published by Thamesis, £10. Find Forest Poets on Facebook and Twitter @ForestPoets
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