The View-Master reel stutters –
us, skiting about the Skarne blocks,
skinned knees out the backies.
Buttercups glowing under our chins,
bombing bullies with itchy-coos
in every Whitfield school war.
Spare Beyblades more meaningful
than that first boyfriend’s Valentine.
Hyrule hijinks and designing Digimon;
zigzag iPod playlists long since lost.
Sneaking out to Blink 182, no small thing.
Living like duelling pink and blue lightsabers
in the wind that scattered your ashes.
The film shuddered to a halt too soon.