Class

The karate kids
are running towards each other;
one past the pizza place,
one past the estate agents.
They are white-pyjamaed weapons
smiling HIYA with a wave
then HIYA with a chop to the air.
Their belts are orange
like the weak squash in the bottles
held by their parents trying to keep up,
like the sun smacking their cheeks.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s