Homesickness by Michael Rosen

Once upon a time I was in a story 
where I met an invisible thing

who said that I could have one wish 
and I said that my wish was that

I could go back to the place and time
I miss the most

and the invisible thing said that I could. 
But:

though I could go back to the place
 could never go back to that time.

Then I pleaded with the invisible thing 
and said, "Please can it be both,

the place and the time?" 
And the invisible thing said, 
Very well I could,

but if I did go back to that place and time,

I must promise not to speak to anyone 
in that place.

"What will happen if I do?" I said 
and the invisible thing said that

if I did, I would never get back to now.
  

I agreed and in a flash 
I was there and then

in that place and in that time:

It was winter

there were my friends,

the ice on the pond was thick enough 
to carry them sliding and shouting 
all morning

and we felt the ice with our fingers.

Then it was spring:

the birds in an orchard whistled 
through the blossom

and I brushed a branch with my fingers.

Then it was a summer evening, just a gust of wind 
raised dust in the alley where my friends kicked a ball

I was in goal and the ball smacked my hand till it stung.
  

Then it was autumn

and we lined up in rows in silence

waiting for orders to walk in single file to class 
and I touched the shoulders of the boy in front.

But I didn’t speak to anyone.

And then I was at a station

waiting for my mother to come home 
from work.

the trains rolled in and out

and when the woman in the kiosk 
asked me if I wanted some sweets 
I remembered not to answer her

and another train pulled in, the doors 
opened and I could see my mother 
step down on to the platform

and when she reached me,

she put her arm round me

and said, "There’s no need for you

to wait for me here, you’ve got a key, 
you can let yourself in

why don’t you go home?"
   

And I shrugged and said, "I like waiting 
here…"

And she held my hand.

And the invisible thing whispered 
in my ear,

"You’ve spoken."

"I know I have," I said.

"You’ll be here for ever and ever,"
it said.

And I said,

"But you’re just an invisible thing in a story. 
I can decide what I’ll do.

You can’t rule over me.”

And the invisible thing laughed.
"You’re right. You’re totally right 
and I am wrong.

You will be able to get back."

I laughed too

And I said,

"And I will be able to come here again."

But the invisible thing spoke again: 

"You’re right about it all, 
but for one thing."

"What’s that?" I said.

"Yes, you can travel to and fro 
between here and there, 
between then and now

just as you want. 
But without me,

when you go to the place and time 
that you miss the most

you won’t be able to touch anything. 

Not a thing."