Playtime from the Classroom Window


It’s as if nothing’s changed:
they go galloping out,
trample through the seagulls’ camp,
secure slowly round and close corrals.

Young manes flutter,
heads toss vain bravadoes.
Suddenly feet shift,
break into movement;

eddies of delicious panic
churn in on themselves;
splashing shrieks drench
the towering cliffs of sky,

then subside, lapping
round the million stars
like a spent froth
of useless S.O.S. It is

as if death’s not long pounced
and dragged one off –
what isn’t, never was,
declare the childrens’ brazen eyes,

so does the quietening bell
calling the children in,
while the seagulls circle back
to reclaim their domain.



© Nemo 2023
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Going to need to read this several times I think, deeper than I expected Gerald. Good to find an old friend on my return.


And the world moves on. Such resilience can seem so cruel at times. I liked quite a lot about this but the final verse really stayed with me.

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