Let’s Do Cartwheels
and watch the great world spin.
Everyone will be on the green again
playing football or tip the can.
Parents will pop out every now and then
to check we’re still alive and then some.
All the flowerbeds will be shaking
with laughter, ickle secrets hidden
in the undergrowth. No one will be alone.
If we’re lucky maybe an ice cream cone
or sandwich, its strawberry syrup running.
Cancer won’t have entered our imagination;
or the plight of the disabled: accommodation,
public healthcare, dignity and indignation.
The sun will be high, then low, then gone
but as it stands we’re having fun
and unaware of what’s happening to time:
how it’s speeding up, then slowing down
depending on what’s happening.
When we’re crouched behind a pillar hiding
it’s from ourselves and not anything
untoward. There is no fault or blame,
just the present participle spinning
like a Catherine wheel, halcyon
as innocence, and telling.