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I have been here once before – It was a long time ago, I don't remember when.But as my father handed me the axe-headImages exploded in my brain.
I've just invented a flying machine;It's silver and gold and three shades of green.
We're floating into the blue,Me and my blue balloon.Over the rooftops of the town,The brown fields and the treesAnd the Downs – we're floating,
We watch them, hypnotized.Pale and mysterious,They rise and fall. Joe says“They look like ghosts.”
I am in a forest;My brothers will never find me here.Over my head is a green umbrella;I feel the earth under my bare feet.
The dinosaurs are on the march again.They have trampled across the terrace overnight,Leaving green, veined footprints in their wake.Now they lurk in the undergrowth;
The seagulls are doing their dance again – Wings clasped to their sides, they stare up the street.Up and down, up and down, go their knobbly pink knees;
Furrows unfurl,Carved by the plough – Curl, fold, fall back:The skin peels away.