A gloss white basin set in dark loam woodWith shiny taps that sparkle when they flow.The walls, half-panelled, are not the colour of mud;
Why do you use me, abuse me so badly?Screwing up paper and squashing it madly;nestling the throwaway news in my innards.
We’re on the train that’s racing to the seaside for the dayI’ve got my towel and costume, my bucket and my spadeOutside I get a fleeting look at cows in fields of green
Mam made a conefrom newspaper and put sugar in it.Then she’d give each of us a stickof rhubarb, to dip.
“Too whit my dear husband, please hurry, make hasteAll three eggs have hatched, there is no time to waste.The table is empty, not a bite in the house.
I hear the clang of the bell and I see myselfrunning on cold concrete across the school playground,