Back in East Acton

Brick chimneys sharp against blue sky
And I am back sitting on black asphalt
Almost too hot to touch.
Sunlight burns off brick playground walls.
The stink of stale school dinners
Mixes with frying oil from the doughnut factory.
Behind open windows and metal grilles
Children gasp for air,
Dream of trees, water,
Anywhere else.
Jean Abbott