There are about three thousand pupils at my school and before classes the all play in the yard. They all wear blue and white track suit uniforms and it's quite a sight.
Schoolyard Blues And Whites
There are patterns in the motion
strange whirlpools in the ocean
ripples waves and tides of blue and white.
Three thousand children's faces
their owners caught in chases
that weave chaotic dances left and right.
We enter at the gate
and cast ourselves to fate
and plot the straightest course we can achieve.
But there begins a sirens chorus
of "hellos" that rise before us
and six thousand tine hands grasp at my sleeve.
Like flotsam on the waters
of Baiyin's son's and daughters
I am tossed and turned but trust myself to fate.
My helm is true and steady
and eventually I'm ready
to reach the shore to which I navigate.
From the steps where I now stand,
like a Mariner on land,
I look back at the ocean with regret:
at the constant ebb and flow
as the children come and go.
The bell for morning class has not rung yet.
Trump(et) king mushrooms
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