The memory is as rich as the rhyme itself, unearthing sounds and smells and the rhythm of life. The memory is what counts.a memory captured by this book, Old Friend From Far Away The Practice of Writing Memoir by Natalie Goldberg. Perhaps a sideways jump, feet to the left, feet to the right, to emulate the zeds in sizzle. Something spectacular happens at the ‘sizzly sizzly’ part, something which sets this verse apart from the other verses of the chant.
I’m six again in the alley beside my house, rope slapping against cobblestones my red leather shoes with perforated edges tapping the slippery stones the stones themselves, steely blue grey at their best like ice cubes from a North Sea storm.
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