At Eight at the top of Forest Lane playground, climbing frame A bigger boy Pushed him ‘You’d better Run Because I will smash your face in’ So he ran down, his laughter echoing down Forest Lane Weeping out of breath

To his mothers cul de sac arms

Aged nine, Darrington C.of E.
school playtime down around
grey gravel playground breathing hard

boys chase girls, grab girls, red faced,
girls giggling, stroppy,
out of breath

boys herd girls down stone steps,
between stone walls, up against black
wooden gate

Apple Pie shaped school entrance
they called The Apple Pie.

Or

Kerry Fretwell, prettiest girl in school,
nicknamed Froggy, eyes glinting
at him he’d catch his breath

as she chose boys to take
a lesson in kissing
with her apple pie lips
behind prefab

he wanted her to choose him,
if she did he’d run a mile
out of breath