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Above The Clouds

(wrote back in March, which now seems an age ago)

The reluctant tears of morning dew 

hang from foliage of vivid green.

A global pandemic is mentioned. 

Ears barely prick 

Minds drift like snow: 

Mmm what's for tea?

The dew becomes gas and floats 

Ribbons of wispy white melt into the blue high above.

Lockdown

Feet burn upon newly laid decking under an early summer sun...

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Pandemichope

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