Places to cry

by Eva Brand Whitehead

hiding under the apple tree
with broad branches
and pink flowers;
when feeding the next door neighbours fish
blibity blobity blu
halves of dry fish food captured;
and taken
Under water;
stuck in the school toilet
you know there is a queue
but your pink face tells you to stay;
in your mother’s arms
under the shining red currant bush
in the pouring rain