Category Archives: September 3rd 1939: Bournemouth

‘September 3rd, 1939: Bournemouth’ — Thwaite’s moving poem about the mysteries of childhood

My summer ends, and term begins next week. Why I am here in Bournemouth, with my aunt And ‘Uncle Bill’, who something tells me can’t Be really my uncle? People speak In hushed, excited tones. Down on the beach An … Continue reading

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