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Perpendicular
across the road she crouches and mopes
I can imagine us both in all sorts of capers
her dead husband's crane collapsed, the
tragic story splashed in all the daily papers
the width of a street yet a yawning gap
behind her the glow of a widow at night
my crane gleams in the moonlight clear
no metal fatigue affects its noble height
airborne pokes my rude steeple, a b...
Sunday 11th July 2021 11:10 am
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