• Vol. 05
  • Chapter
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I won't tell you not to jump in puddles
as I warm your feet,
and you watch them lull
your pale dozing fish,
dreaming of where they swam
and I know you'll sail far
but I'll hold you whilst I can
whilst you're still lost
in the magic of your own skin.
I wish I'd had more river days
hair unbound, silty toes, stalking minnows-
whilst brothers bawled at home,
'til they grew tall and hauled me down
just as I caught the breeze-
for there was butter to churn
and tears to mend,
for they never needed grace
and we needed work
for our idle idle hands.
So I ask you to jump in puddles,
swing on gates, take the neighbour's bike
and peddle till the wind lifts your hair.