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Kunama 1971


Alas!


The hills, the sky,
The trees and rocks
All floating gently by.
An open window.
A soft breeze blowing in my hair
The pale blue sky,
The puffs of soft white clouds.
But alas! the clash of the opening door,
The sound of another pair of feet,
Another noisy voice,
Adding to the deafening chatter.
And on we go.
Past houses and shops,
Cars and vans, noisy trucks.
Then the screech of brakes.
I gather up my things
And step down onto the busy world of school.

Sue Crimmins 1A


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