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Five children clasping mittenscould not hug the entire trunk.Whole hands could hide in the folds of its bark.James, the tallest boy in class,could sit on a root,
Late again Blenkinsop?What's the excuse this time?Not my fault sir.Whose fault is it then?Grandma's sir.Grandma's. What did she do?
His name is called and there's a pause
just long enough to halt a war
tame timber wolves and trim their claws
hide diamonds in a secret drawer
He swears on his mother's life he wasn't there.
And if he was there
he swears on his mother's life it wasn't him.
And if it was him
Dog in the playground:Oh, no he don’t.He’ll come with me,You see if he won’t.
Tippi can't stand clowns.Dragon is terrified of cockroachesand Mom of mice.Dad pretends to be fearless,though I've seen him flinch when the mail arrives
It's five past three.Sixty-four eyes look at me.No. Sixty-two.Not Matthew.He hasn't learnt to read my face.He's got digital. A disgrace!I reach to ten.
The building is white,ivy eating its way up the broken walls,windows smalland scratched.
He's the Keepy-Uppy Kid.
Miss Flotsam was my reception teacher.She had travelled the world.Brown hair turned goldenunder distant suns,clothes carrying colours
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