dash

After School
 
Peeling a blade of grass in half
to make that zoo zoo sound
scamper through loose-cut fields
eyes mucus-thick and watery
like the corn starched stew of home
too eager to stop running
heart and brain fuse                            
metallic taste
Do not be the one left behind
keeping the others in sight
blue and white checkered dresses
(standard issue uniform)
specks in the distance
be sure they are growing, not shrinking
roots of a silver birch protrude
just enough to create an obstacle
a tripping device
bloody knees
a drop of rain
It’s a bit black over Bill’s Mother's
but they don’t look back.

Jess Blackledge
 
If you have any thoughts on this poem, 
Jess Blackledge would be pleased to hear them.

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