Miss Kemp’s Playschool

You forget that I’m going to Simon’s
house and his mum is to pick me up
from the dusty chapel at noon. And when

I see you standing there, embossed
against the other parents, a comic 
rolled up ready for me in your hand, 

my heart surges for home and I hide myself
in the pleats of your skirt 
until they leave. But you’re cross with me 

as we walk home down Stoneham Street. 
I have embarrassed you, it’s not ok 
to change my mind, to let people down. 

At our front steps I’m choking on hot tears,
screaming at you, so you shut the inner door
on me. Leave me in the stuffy lobby to thrash

around and tear my comic up in little bits.
Why can’t I make you see what this means.
O! the way you’d smiled at me

before you realised your mistake.