Little Gold

Liquid sky pouring over the glass roof,

streaming and blurring,

her gaze down the tracks.

Shrinking, shrinking

away to nothing,

the vanishing

tail of a

leaving

train.

Lying face down on her bed, relishing the cool of the cotton against her cheek, Little Gold feels her body vibrate with the receding wave of adrenalin and yawns burst from her mouth, one after another like a knotted chain of magician’s scarves.

Pain acknowledged is pain borne. Pain fought will always defeat you.

Change will come, barely perceptible shifts in her understanding that she will be too observant to miss and too honest to deny. But she will never stop coming here, because some connections are never broken.

shifts in her understanding that she will be too observant to miss and too honest to deny. But she will never stop coming here, because some connections are never broken.

nothing is static, not even death.

This scene will play again.

small and decorated soldier, she puts her palm once more to the name and turns away.

words are all the words – happenings, perceptions and desperate questions, disjointed and repeated – that she says nowhere else

Vocabulary tests are weekly for the more able children.