David Coldwell (Remove filter)
The Football
Who would have guessed that a small tree
could be so vicious. All day you had kicked
the new football back and forth against
the gable of the red brick terrace and
not even the promise of ice cream could
coax you away, until the Blackthorn spoilt the game.
That’s when you ran back, holding the thing
with your thumb pressed white against its skin.
You begged me for some...
Wednesday 5th July 2017 6:59 pm
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