Local Lines

August 18th, 2022Local Lines

Local Lines

It’s cold

Your bare knees
are not the worst
It’s the air on the back

of your legs
round your shorts

and the dead cold
of your pox-leather
covered toes

Morning recess
on the concrete courts
where no tennis is played

Edge past a frozen puddle
Your new schoolmates
have encircled someone

They take turns to mouth
unspoken words
to deaf Derek

hoping to see him adjust
his perfectly functioning
hearing aid

Derek’s stamping
on the ground has nothing
to do with cold

  • Bill Wootton

Bill lives in Hepburn Springs where even in late winter it is still cold.

Local Lines comes mainly from a group of local poets but other submissions are always welcome. To have a poem considered for publication contact Bill Wootton at cottlesbreedge@gmail.com

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