Write about a time when you didn’t take action but wish you had. What would you do differently?
In year five, I was new to Saint Agnes
From the Chinese school
I usually got lunch off the canteen lots of chattiness
Headed to the playground with my meal…cool
I hung around the boys from year four
Asked this kid, ‘Di sia mi mia? What is your name?
The dude kept nodding nebver knew Fookien wish I could say more
He got riled up my joke turning lame
We ate in peace, the trees provided a cool breeze
Not just fourth graders but other year levels as well
This game had the, mucking around before ‘twas time to freeze
I had yet uncovered the delights of hair gel
Wallace, a hulking Jew with auburn locks, was in third grade
Balancing at the see-saw, three classmates to one
Relishing the challenge, ‘Me and Fita one-on-one’ tired of the ho-hum parade
Fita was small, half his weight, but Wallace promised a one-and-done
For naive kids, this wasn’t a bad idea
Wallace was in position, Fita followed and flew off the ground like a rag doll
‘Oh my God, Fita!’
Eyes wide like saucers, Wallace was disbelieving, ‘R u Ok? Can you crawl?’
Fita was clearly not A-okay
A lanzones-sized lump was on his forehead
Like an escapee from an unhinged science experiment with a blood bouquet
Smashing heads wasn’t playground cred
Wallace’s hands were on his cheeks
Someone called the school nurse Fita was wheeled in a gurney
His bandaged forehead needed tweaks
Like a mummy, or Harry Kewell when he injured his gulliver for Melbourne City
Inspecting the ‘Wallacised’ boy, Auntie Mel deemed him lucky to escape intact
Urged the little ones to ‘Stop, look, and listen’
She loathed another brain cramp
May this be their life lesson
Wallace and Fita were gone, the slapstick act the talk of the playground
One rascal did a decent Wallace impersonation
Untucking his polo jacket, hands on cheeks, saying ‘Oh my God’
Dude wasn’t doing stand-up; we were shocked at the spontaneous tourist attraction
After the school year, Wallace left
A wanderer by faith, his talents abroad
Why could I recall the incident as though yesterday? My long-term memory’s def
Hopefully, he’s astute about see-saws, regardless of his mood.
