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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,
The biggest berries are in the centreof a tunnel of thorny bushes.A shark gaping wide,promising not to nip.
We watch them, hypnotized.Pale and mysterious,They rise and fall. Joe says“They look like ghosts.”
Standing by the river, my face grewinto a flat fish and floated offto a lily pad, and I was lonelywithout myself, without my twin.
Teach me the language of Cat;the slow-motion blink, that crystal stare,a tight-lipped purr and a wide-mouthed hiss.Let me walk with a saunter, nose in the air.