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Cubbies

Up the street an empty playground,
overgrown wasteland below
Laughing voices, hidden
children running wild
Cops and robbers,
Mud-wading, making tracks
and cubbies.

There are lots of cubbies, mum
What are they called my sweet?
Valley, and Leaf ,and Merry-go-round
And Where-the-dead-dog-is.

— xann_adu, Jul 09, 2007

About the Author

Region, Country: NSW, Australia

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weirdelf

weirdelf

18 years 11 months ago

I am at a loss for words

(much to everyone's relief) this is great. To me just what poetry can aspire to, image, emotion, meaning all tautly compressed. cheers, Jess

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