10 Children dart in the dark, screamers
            streaming sweets and neon, their parents

 Those hot hot summer days. Hair curling against sticky clammy foreheads.
Pony tails, pig tails or braids. Keep it off our neck and backs.

They can imagine a forest,
we don’t need this minimalist tree,
we’ll represent a place to live without walls, without foundations or a hearth.

Over and over, you are Dorothy
or Glenda the Good,
me the Wicked Witch of the West

Every evening at the care home, I pull in
two armchairs til they’re facing. Opposites,
we never fist bump, high-five or
touch each other’s vying outstretched fingers.

How two men can become
four men can become
eight men

Take eight each of hex bolts
washers, locks…
it’s important
to fasten these tightly.

Things have been rough lately.
It seems impossible now,
as the breeze relieves us

The new year slouches forward, unlovable,
barely acknowledged but for tired, gritty eyes
and a muffled scream into the kitchen towel.