Oliver

He appears like a genie
in my sun-shattered kitchen,
ten years old going on fifty. He’s
full of eagerness this first day
of his spring holidays. “I’m
coming to see you, Tess, every day!”

So he exposes those near me
for their casual reluctance.
Croissants are coming out
of the oven. His timing exact.
Yes, he’ll have a cup of tea
with his. He settles himself
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