Because I’m already on my second or third. Red Wolf Poems asks us for a bit of time travel: in a poem, embrace and share a snippet of the child you were.
The Biter Bit
A sturdy small girl
stomps down the garden in a paddy
to jump with aplomb into the dinghy.
Rocking wildly she picks up an oar
to propel the boat upstream
by paddling over the stern,
her fluid strokes expert,
outrace the chase by angry parent,
She steers skilfully,
leans across the current towards open terrain
on the far side of the river. Escape. Freedom.
Countless small creatures scent blood,
descend on tender skin for a meal.
Hot itching inflames her temper,
fuels an about turn in search of respite,
calamine lotion and a soothing touch
from mother, jovial now the wanderer’s returned.