Time used to pass- custard setting-
boy nudges bowl aside-
smithereens around kitchen floor-
custard spattered up legs.

Startled, our kid scarpers so fast
no time to clean the slate
and worse, fridge door hangs wide-open.
His new age breezes in.

Clutching knees, stuck in long grass now.
Brood of magpies sweep past.
Walls spring up to block thought and deed
unreal, and one mile high.

Mam knows all his sanctuaries
strokes his hair 'fore he turns.
She's smiling, he's hungry; must mean
clocks'll chime once again.