Gripped
I suppose I learnt other things
but what I most remember
about those thirteen years
is from the days of Junior 3
when plasters were allowed
and no-one was allergic
to a cuddle from Miss Lawton
– or a clout.
The fall was a bad one,
knee still bleeding after the bell,
with bits of grit lodged inside.
Setting aside Elastoplast,
Miss unscrewed the tube
and pressed. She said
the blob of Savlon poking out
was way too much.
She squeezed it near the neck,
not on the flat side of the tube
but pinching at the edges.
I watched in wonder
as the peeping worm
retracted into darkness,
still white and pure
as driven snow.