October’s VV Image Prompt

A Spare Key

I am eight. I’m very grown up.
I have my own front door key.
Happy birthday, my mum said.

Keys are power. Keys hanging
heavy on chains, swinging
long from my father’s belt.
Keys worn like puzzles, jewellery,
like a thinly bared brass finger.

No more scratching around
like a dog pawing a lost bone,
or searching dark secret spots
under porch steps, or hiding
a spare under a flower pot.

In my grip and grasp, I have
this shiny brass pressed deep
into my hand, its sharp teeth
jagged against my fingers.
It’s feels body-hot on my skin.

Try it, my mum says, so you
know it works.

Into the lock, gently turned,
a click and fragile tumble, and
I’m safe as houses, inside.

Written for Visual Verse’s October image and submitted for publication to their monthly anthology. Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter   poem Β© Misky Image by N Jain. Header image photo by Victoria Strukovskaya on Unsplash

14 responses to “October’s VV Image Prompt”

  1. Gosh. My daughter lost so many keys I had to have the locks changed. Seriously. It only finished when she left home. I think a key-safe now is the best option. You know, a strongbox on the wall.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. What power at 8! Actually I was a latch key kid at 8 too. But we hid the key at home. I didn’t take it with me. And our little dog had her kennel under the cottoneaster bush and would hide until she knew it was me. πŸ˜€


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