A little poem entiltled...
Emily in the Window
Feet upon the sill, waiting
she hugs her knees
and mouths words onto the glass.
a cock-eyed smile
a silent shout
a simple wave.
The creak of metal. A rush of air.
Are you coming to play?
All the children run
along the steaming tarmac
grass-stained fingers and holey knees
laces of their trainers flapping.
Holding tight the cold frame
she dangles
her hair caught on the wind.
Tear away - I can take it!
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