Can you still call up that glee
in the pit of your guts
when wind picked up leaves and dust
devils spun the whole playground
into a delirious flock of crows
performing flips and twists
free-falling then swooping
up to hang on the vacuum formed
in the lee of a Scots Pine clump?
.
Arms out, fingers splayed like primaries
we whirled across the tarmac playing
kiss chase, ran ragged from wall to wall
making clattered flat-footed stops
and rushed to touch HOME! bricks
lungs aching from screams and squeals
of delight at being chased and disgust
at being caught and held and bumped
heads as a dry peck on chin, cheeks
or an eyelid or brow (only accidently lips)
except that wild day you let me
and it was so revolting and I ran away
and all the girls and boys joined in
the chase and held me while you kissed me
back and shouted out
with all your gut of glee
to the wind-whipped cheers of all
including the dinner ladies too
I HATE YOU, CHRISTOPHER PERRY!
~
n.b. Picture above shows that hateful Perry boy, now embodied in a larger frame, but with same lockdown (3) hair.
CLP 23/01/2021
Journey of Words 