Pickup time

(based on suggestions from @pinknantucket, @1000yearsago, @realnixwilliams and @MJPhotographer)

Let’s go look at the possum in the bin!

We saw Dale eat a sandwich out of there

Hey, if you were a Transformer

Would you be a Mack or a Kenworth?

Dancing on chalked up foothpaths

Legs and arms on a string

Sprayed with a shot of freckles

Feverish dandelion hair.

My dad says your dad drives a Holden.

My mum’s bringing home KFC after work.

What one? Family bucket. Lucky.

Why did Miss Ford yell at Dale again?

Filigree of dust on glue on skin

Mucilage of grime-edged hands

Blue and orange veins of texta

The magic of glitter under fingernails.

My oldest sister is househunting.

She says real estate agents are arseholes.

And prices are bloody horrendous.

Then she said the C word.

Love lights up their collar bones

Precious knees, careful ankles.

Sleek joy whirls in a swinging bag

Turns; sings out like a clarinet; runs to me

Runs to me.

__________________________________________

Today's poem is based on suggestions from four peeps:

• @pinknantucket: "how about using the word 'mucilage'?" (I do believe this is the first time I've used the word 'mucilage', ever!)
• @1000yearsago: "househunting :\"
• @realnixwilliams: "holdens! no, fords! (or the east gippsland logging equiv: mack! no, kenworth!"
• @MJPhotographer: "light love"

But also based on me eavesdropping on kids outside a primary school while they waited to be picked up. Kids are awesome.