Under the Stairs by Caitlin McLeod

I am in the middle of a book so here is something from New Poems on the Underground to keep you going

She has a small shop under the stairs
where I buy black beads and velvet cloth
and the little pleasures of a shiny green apple sticker.

But I am older now and I act as if I don't
remember what it was like to pretend
because she is my sister and I am alone.

The blue airplane has no wheels.
The bucket filled with yellow stars
has no handle. The pinwheel does not turn.

I like those best because they are like me.