What if by Hera Lindsay Bird

In Poetry

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26th May, 2012
What if I was a kindergarten teacher. What if I spent all day teaching children to hammer small bits of wood together, to make slightly larger bits of wood. What if you were the father of one of the children. What if you were the widower father of one of the children. What if you saw me walking out of the classroom, with a small blue piece of cellophane stuck in my hair. What if you were my dead husband and I had come back from the future to save your life. How would I even begin to tell you. And what if I told you, and you didn’t believe me. What if you thought it was just a weird way ...

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