14.ix.20
256
September in Wollstonegrad
windows in a reflection
a forest and creatures there
down to the harbour
and fondly remember
tomorrow belonging
the day ahead
lavender tangle
glimmers and ponding
it was all time gathered here
from young
like a book of what to do
and still writing
I love a look up through branches
down to the harbour in vines
bright sun underlid to show
train wore a mask that year
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