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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'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
Please Mrs ButlerThis boy Derek DrewKeeps copying my work, Miss.What shall I do?
We goin' on a school trip today,De whole class goin' to Whitney Bay,Ah teckin' me ball an' bat with meTo play beach cricket, an' let me see,
Eyes as wide as continents brim wih the water between.
Seeks a different future. Looks back on what has been.
Mouth seeks another language. Shapes a different air.
When Raymond Gough joined our classHe was almost a year behind.'Sanatorium', said Mrs McBride'So I want you all to be kind.'
The light through the blind is a poem,
the way it illuminates air.
And the shadows that fall
on the floor and the wall
are signs that a poem is there.
Walking out the school door,
didn't come to stay,
didn't mean to talk, but
did it anyway.
My friend Jace, beside me,
walking to my beat,
This morning I've got too much energymuch too much for geography
I'm in a high moodso class don't think me crudebut you can stuff latitude and longitude