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And Now I'm Old
This poem carries faint echoes of winter in a Mediterranean climate, in this case the South West of Western Australia; limpid skies, stormclouds threatening, people in overcoats walking hastily. Rather like an English summer, I would have thought!
And Now I'm Old
And now I'm old as softening apples
left forgotten on a sideboard
after a windy day,
the murmur of the evening room
...Thursday 19th October 2017 11:09 am
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