Outside the fields Are coated in white. Green grass, Bedecked with crystals Glitter beneath The morning’s early sun. School shoes are damp They litter classroom carpets With green clumps, and strands, And smears of mud, As we’re all told to take our coats off inside. Feet stamp on hollow flooring The old wall heater is struggling And still we’re all told To take our coats off inside. The teacher surveys us, with eyes that stream, Ignoring the shiver of the boy with blue fingers. To a chorus of sniffing, as condensation Drips, Languidly down oversized windows. The door still ajar is finally shut with a bang, as A single stick of chalk whitely marks the blackboard. The light of the sun blinds our eyes as we peek Towards The tin bus shelter Beyond the round footy field Until finally The bell sounds, and we may open the door Collecting our coats, play lunch in our pockets. Faces pink, red; Beneath the mid-morning sun, Its weak warmth, the wet grass Now seem somehow friendly, As our coats are soon too, Discarded like tissues.