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Child

Author: 
Isabel Galleymore

The child with golden locks tells me to marry a man with money.

 

The child whose favourite colour is grey tells me to look on the    bright side,

 

the child smelling of fabric softener tells the same story.

 

The child in the shape of a cloud tells me to take ten deep breaths,

 

the small child reminds me it’s rude to whisper in a public place,

 

the child that rolls in circles on the floor tells me to travel east.

 

The child with shoes on the wrong feet replies to the child

 

with the alligator and the wolf telling me to give up and cry cry cry,

 

whilst the child with the strange nose mumbles ‘don’t lie about it tonight’.

 

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From Brittle Star No 20 (Autumn 2008)

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