The Zig-zag slope
up the end of the street
was dark and dismal
a secret forest
of stunted Scotch pines
and brambles.
I ate raw mushrooms
(from the Greek greengrocer down the street)
but I didn’t see the wolves
when I played hookey
hiding from school
and my father.

The pines are gone
cut down
to let the sunlight in.
Brambles cleared and paths cemented
it has been sanitised
gone up-market
home to high-rise houses
electric security gates.

No place here for adolescence and wolves.