Imagination
After Kindy
little kids
wait with mums
at the big kids’ school:
Chat-time,
there and back time;
big-tree shade,
dust and long leaves,
water in cages –
shiny bubblers,
hot black play-ground,
bench-seats
low down.
Liz is back and sobbing,
Mum says, ‘What’s the matter?
Wipe the tears.
Blow the nose.’
‘I can’t hold water,’ Lizzie cries.
‘We’re making mud,’ says Bella.
‘Oh,’ says Lizzie’s Mum.
‘Oh,’ says Bella’s Mum.
The mums frown.
‘You have to put water
in your mouth,’ says Liz.
‘And spit it,
on the dirt,’ says Bella.
‘Oh,’ say the mums.
Mums don’t make magic
in play-ground dust.
Kids do.
Drips of water
from their mouths:
dust kicking
water strings,
mixed up
with fingers
into mud
with gumnut people
jumping in,
and leaf crocodiles
snapping.
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