From the newsagents where we stole penny sweets
To the front gate where I skinned my shin.
The shed where someone stashed their porn.
We climbed up on the roof
and waved centrefolds at the prisoners next door.
A cage with a concrete floor.
The echo of a ball bounces off every wall-
Summoning much needed feet and hands.
The Sergio twins on a climbing frame.
Lazily swinging and singing “Hello”
A square within a square, within a square, within a square…
A Chilean flag and break-dancing llamas.
We recline on a balcony in a slice of sun,
Talking about a book – The Hobbit.
We are the natives. We know the lay of this land.
Shoulder to shoulder, handing a watch to Mr Wolf.
To Play, To Fight, To Learn, To Grow.
Together forever until the removal van –
filled with more than just stuff-
Circles the square and one of us is gone.