CITY OF POEMS It's Monday morning: Among the crowded houses my mum is walking slowly to the shops with her brown handbag on her shoulder. She's thinking about what kind of food to buy and washing the dishes and washing the clothes, making the beds and tidying up. She feels tired already. She wants to go to sleep. Suzanne Gilbert When my dad brought the lorry home he had to park it on the hill because it would block the road and no other cars could pass it. It looked like an enormous blue giraffe lying down. Parked by the car it looked like an elephant next to a mouse. When it had gone it felt like the earth was bare . Leann Short at night the trees blow. and trees grow apples. at night people watch the moon and women knit. at night cars go to work with people in them BIan Kearns