When I was young
I would play with my brothers 
on the grass and my white socks 
would turn green 

We would be outside 
until the windows 
were yellow with light 
and the sky was black 

You couldn’t see the ball 
until it hit you 
in the mouth 
and you needed mum 

In the evening and night
you couldn’t see her flowers 
so there was no damage  
and that was just as well 

If we stay out
I will keep on throwing 
and my hand will hurt 
but I won’t mind