Tuesday 18 October 2016

Patsy

Do you wonder unsown, beneath evening trees, as if you'll ever know, remembering those photos, of your family, spread all over now blown, in dusty places around, dancing like the breeze, down our street our town, and that one of your Da, the fellow he seized, Mother's words now Pa, looked after, time shown, Sunday suits clean, houses bought,money down, starched shirt, reposed, an army at ease, large hands still foreign, to that history.

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