on the grass with the boys with ice cream
heavy rock it takes me a minute
or two to realise this is the same grass
almost exactly
my time machine swinging
the car park the things that followed
born to be wild
it's too much too hot
down to the swings
our impressions left there
in that grass that spot
almost exactly
down the steps up the road
ice creams finished
we are away down the ghost road to
the Pooh Sticks Bridge
down the mud where it has
been raining hard and undried
in get in
it's enough, we run and run
it's enough
closing the door behind them
shutting us in and out
all a flurry of handings and leavings
bye boys
see you soon
there's no shutting out the grass
the day
the time machine, the long future without
.
Nice one Stevie, how the hell are ya moose face?
ReplyDeleteStill howling at the moon?
Your old pal - Deb : D
Hey there, Weavie! Thanks for dropping by. You hanging out at any poetry places?
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