A sink bucket
by Oskar Hansen
Today I forgot to buy milk, black coffee in the morning it is so
easy to remember the past it shines like jewels lost.
It was the winter of 1964, it was dark my brother carried
a big sink bucket and I a smaller one, we were on our way to
the coal depot to- if we found a hole in the fence- to steal coal.
We were caught by a man who wore an arm band of the new
people in command and they were taking no nonsense from
anyone least of all seven years old thieves.
I have often seen that you put a uniform on someone who
who never had power and they behave like little Hitler sprats.
On the way home with two empty buckets, we came across
a wooden fence that had partially fallen down we took as many
planks as we could carry and had a warm Christmas Eve