Local writer, Gwendalyn Kneebone, has started documenting her memories of Coburg during the 1950s and 60s. This poem draws from her memories of living two doors up from a warder at Pentridge Prison
At 5.30 each evening the big man passed by
and the little girl joined him joined and him
walking the dog.
The man worked at Pentridge- — all men worked somewhere.
The little girl wondered about work.
The neck of the park took them out of the street
away from the duty of warding the bad
away from the house where eyes were so sad
the dog for an amble
The chatter was formal but wound around justice
Curly Wee from “the Age” our Global defender.
He fought crime and ignorance and was a great symbol of moral divide.
The little girl needed to have someone read it.
She wore her apron, embroidered by someone, ready for tea.
His boots were heavy.
The dog wore short curls
and leered and dribbled.
At 6pm as damp rose they parted to dinner and news.
He lead the gardening team on the floral clock —
leaf fall and petal death, fresh air and punishment
a piece of string and a thirty year pansy.
His garden at home was plush with dahlias
and giant tomatoes from vats of compost fearful to fall in.
In the neck of the park
crashed by the boys with the blunt brainless digits.
Nothing happened. Nothing happened. Yes it did.
The heat of the dog
trips against the wide comfort of fur.
I remember Paddy’s stick.
I remember we joked a prisoner escaping would not stay in Coburg.
We all leave footprints.
The park has replanting by green conscious neighbours.
The man has left, buried the dog.
Paddy Egan’s Dog
The little girl grew but not changed entirely.
The blue stone dreams on.
You can buy cells from the plan in the High Street.
Rising damp is a downside, the chill when life goes.
The heritage castle now sold by the madmen
— a ‘natural escape’, an ‘exclusive enclave’.
Poor taste, poor joke.
Now I write history and will do the life cycle of Pentridge plumbing
to smell the backdraft to melt new ideas.
I wish I had a picture of the big man, the little girl and the wide dog.
By Gwendalyn Kneebone
The Coburg Meddler 