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Friday, 31 August 2012

Flash



I wonder whether
Kingfisher wings
Still flash
Beneath the trees
Along the dark canal
And the heron
Still stands
Mournful 
As a vicar
By a grave.

One is  flashing
Fishy death
The other
Pointing doom.
I love 
The flashing blue
Can do without the gloom.

JL August 31. 12:42

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